Constantine: Whispers in the dark
by Eowyn-whitelady1
Summary: When Chas's childhood friend, Ariela has a dream about his dark fate, and goes to save him. Chapter four now up! Story has strong spiritual elements, and is rated T for language, and thematic elements. R&R.
1. Chapter 1 Only a Shadow

**Disclaimer statement:**

**Ok, first off let me say that I own NOTHING. "Constantine" and the "Hellblazer" comic belong to their respective companies, and owners. I do not know any of the actors, writers or crew of these works. I am making no money off of this whatsoever. **

**Authors note: This story is highly spiritual, so if you don't like stories of this nature please don't read this one. Please give constructive criticism, and don't knock a story before reading it. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the story!**

**PS: I rewrote this a bit, and edited it a bit too. As you can see it's formated differently so that it's easier to read.  
**

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**Whispers in the Dark**

**Chapter one: Only a Shadow**

A fierce cry rang in Ariela's ears, piercing through her sleep. She saw a brief glimpse of something evil, and it shook her emotions yet her spirit held fast. She saw a brown haired boy, defeated on a cold tile floor, blood coming from his nose. He looked confused, and scared. This wasn't right, it couldn't be. She jumped from her bed, and grasped the brush on her nightstand, and ran it through her hair as fast as she could. She frantically searched for clean clothes in the dark. She found some and quickly changed, from her nightgown into dark denim jeans, and a flowing white top. She also made sure to grab her little bottle of oil from the Holy Land, and her Bible. She would need them for what she was about to do. Her body seemed to reverberate with acute spiritual knowing. She could still seem to see the boy's face in front of her, and feel the dark presence that wanted to take his life.

"Father, Jesus, Holy Spirit, cover me, go before me." she said, her breath coming in short puffs. As the words left her mouth she could feel her courage swell within her. "Thank you, thank you." she chanted as she sprinted out across her apartment to the front door. She grasped her car keys from the hook, and ran back into her bedroom, where she made quick work of running down the fire escape to the car below. She entered her car, revved up the engine and sped off. She raced through the streets as fast as the speed limit allowed her, the voice inside guide her. She glanced at herself in her rear-view mirror, and recognized a strange fire in her hazel eyes. Her body shuddered as street lights made streaks across the surface of her the vehicle. Oddly enough she hit no red lights, and there was little traffic. The sight of the boy's face flashed in front of her. His eyes were shutting, the look of sorrow etched across his face. She also saw someone else, and an even graver face. As if someone else was driving, her foot pressed against the accelerator, and the car raced forward. She turned the corner, and was suddenly in front of the Ravenscar Hospital. It's huge cross was not lit, and she could feel the darkness surrounding the place. She parked and looked around. She took her vial of oil from her pocket, and placed some of it on her forehead, blessing herself.

"Jesus, I plead your blood over myself, and the ground I walk on. May it be holy ground for you. No demon can stand where You dwell." she said, her voice unfaltering. As she said this the huge cross in front of the building lit, and she hid her face from it's brightness for a moment. She took it as her cue, and sprinted inside, her Bible and vial in hand. She walked to the front doors and they slid open automatically. The lobby was dimly lit, as when fluorescent lights are first turned on. The place felt like a ghost town, with hardly any sound save the sound of wind blowing. It stirred her hair, and set it trailing behind her, and she listened for the voice in her head to direct her next move. The place smelled of chlorine laden pool water and antiseptic. She heard the sound of an elevator open and she raced towards it. As she did a dark haired man emerged from it. His face was worry-lined, and she could tell that he was influential whatever happened in the hospital that night. She ducked behind the front desk, making her shoes squeak against the linoleum. She mentally kicked herself as heard the man say something to someone. She heard a woman's voice reply.

"I'll check it out" she said. Her tone was sad, and weary. She sounded as if she just came from a battle. Ariela quietly sat on the floor behind the desk and brought her knees to her chest, breathing as slowly and quietly as she could. She didn't feel the need to be discovered yet. She just wanted to know where the boy was. Footsteps drew nearer to where she sat and she prayed if she was discovered she would have favor with the woman. She didn't feel afraid of her, she felt unsure than anything. Nearer, and nearer they came until Ariela could hear her breathing from behind her.

"Who's over here?" she said with a strange authority in her voice. Ariela was silent for a moment, and then began to creep forward, and she heard a click behind her. She knew that sound as a gun cocking, and she froze.

"My name is Ariela." she said in a short spurt of air, as she slowly turned around. When she said this a she heard another set of footsteps on the tile. The man, she guessed.

"Why are you here?" the man said with obvious aggression and distrust in his voice.

"For Chas…" she said simply, as she slowly looked in the direction of the man's voice. She could see his face more clearly now, as the light illuminated it. It was handsome, and yet lined with such deep pain it almost took her breath from her. His dark hair and clothes were dripping wet and his pretty brown eyes lined with red from obvious tears. He then chuckled, and shook his head. He looked as if he was going insane.

"You just missed him." The man finally said his face lined with pain, his face reminding Ariela of steel about to buckle under pressure.

"John!" The dark-haired woman reprimanded. The name suddenly jogged Ariela's memory.

"John? As in John _Constantine_?" she asked. "I don't understand. I know Chas is here."

"How do _you _know?" Constantine said, deadpanning again.

"I _know_!" Ariela said with more urgency. "I'm not a crazy person or a demon…"

"Certainly not a half-breed." John remarked.

"What?!"

"John!" The dark haired woman said again. "Stop it." she said, stepping towards him, and brushing the dark hair from his brown eyes. Ariela could see him suppress a sob then, his Adam's apple moving up and down in a strange way and her heart sank a bit in her chest. Her mind began to be flooded with words and images, about the man in front of her. Her eyes searched his face, and he took notice, and turned slightly away from her.

"I'm Ariela, a friend of Chas's, and I know I can help save him." she said boldly, finally standing up, her Bible in her hand. A light then flashed and Constantine could see the shine from the oil she placed on her forehead, in the shape of a cross. He grunted in response, and looked down at the floor.

"He's dead kid." he said bluntly, there was no reason to beat around the bush. "I'm sorry." he said, again choking back a sudden sob. Ariel took her gaze from John to the woman, and saw a form tucked against the wall. The lights above them became brighter, and she caught sight of the Chas's curly brown hair. She blinked in response, took a deep breath and began to walk towards when she heard the wail of sirens, as red and blue lights flashed outside the hospital doors. Angela went to stop her, but she was stopped by John.

"Humor her." he said, as a lone tear sparkled in his eye. Angela, suddenly curious followed Ariela to Chas's side. The girl was not really a girl, but a young woman barely older than Chas; tall, with a pleasant figure with hair the color of pale gold. She watched as she knelt beside him, and took his head into her arms, cradling him gently. The light caught the glimmer of the girl's gold cross necklace that was draped around her neck, as it swung back and forth as the girl placed some liquid from her vial onto Chas's forehead, and began praying in a language Angela had never heard before. The girl's tone became progressively louder and more confident as the paramedics ran towards Chas. As they approached him, she looked up, her eyes pleading with them to let them be. They gently pulled her away, but the girl remained close to him as they took his final vital signs. The head paramedic shook his head at Ariela.

Angela watched as he informed the girl of his condition, namely that there was no hope. She seemed unwilling to accept the news, but not unaffected. Angela had been in this situation many times before, viewing friends and family member receiving the horrible news of a loved one being murdered. The memory made her skin grow cold and she shuddered. She then went to stand with the girl. She didn't want to be as cold as John, he had an interesting way with people, and namely he was often rude. Before Angela reached her side, Ariela followed the paramedics as they black bagged Chas, and made her way over to John.

"Are you just going to give up now?" Ariela asked.

"Kid, look." he said sternly. "I'm an exorcist, not God. Take it up with _Him_."

"If you get me past the coroner I _will_." she said, tilting her head to the side, her eyes shone with a strange confidence. The girl seemed crazy, but the kind of crazy he liked. He chuckled.

"Alright…k…"

"Not kid. I said my name is Ariela."

"Like the Little Mermaid?" he said laughing as he strode over to the hospital doors.

"No, Ariel-a" the girl said, "its Hebrew, not that you'd care very much right now." she said, not hesitating to follow Constantine out the doors into the sidewalk.

"Obviously." he mumbled in response, causing the girl to suddenly laugh. He was as good-humored as Chas had said. It was dark humor, of course, but humor nonetheless. John's eyebrow rose as he shook his head.

"Hello Coroner." he said as he approached the woman dressed in a long white lab coat. He tried to convince her that Chas's death was due an accidental fall from the second story. Ariela listened as he did so, and was unsure of whether to interfere or not, as she highly doubted the death she saw was due to a fall. The world around her seemed to move in slow motion she watched them place Chas's body onto a stretcher. The wind picked up and stirred the hair on his head, which was still uncovered. It was almost like the paramedics were unwilling accept it just yet. She looked back over at Constantine, who surprisingly was looking her way. The intensity of his gaze made her move a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Time was ticking away; there was only so much time before Chas's body would be taken to the city morgue. Paramedics were scrambling about, along with a few cops taking reports and giving orders.

Constantine looked at the girl, who had most likely woken up in the middle of the night, judging by her slightly rumpled appearance, that her confidence almost overshadowed. The florescent lighting that shone from the hospital gave the girl's hair a strange glow. He felt refreshing peaceful feelings rush over him like a wave crashing upon a shoreline. It was foreign, and strange. Distrust rose within him, and the pushed the feeling away. A sneer appeared on his lips, trying to project an image of being unaffected. It wasn't true, but he could fall apart later.

She looked at him insistently and gestured with her chin in Chas's direction.

"Coroner, this has really been devastating for this girl here." he said, gesturing Ariela to come to his side, which she did, trying to look as normal as possible. "She's his sister, and she'd really just like to ride with him to the Morgue."

"His _sister_?" The middle aged woman answered suspicious of him "For all I knew Chas Kramer doesn't _have _a sister." She then folded her arms in front of her, not in the mood for games. Her brown eyes probed for a better explanation.

"Please, Ma'am, forgive me, but this young lady was a very, very good friend of his, and she just wants to say her goodbyes." John said, tying his best to sound sincere. Ariela heard the word "goodbyes", and suddenly had to fight a lump in her throat. Doubt tried to creep into her mind, and she pushed it away. Her mind was suddenly flooded with information about the Coroner.

"Ma'am, your grandmother was a Christian right?" Ariela said, her voice cracking the slightest bit. Tears of frustration threatened to surface in her hazel eyes.

The woman's dark eyes scanned Ariela's face for any signs of deception. Her arms were folded in front of her, in an effort to ward off the growing chill of the night air.

"Yes, she was." she answered, cocking her head to the side as she did. Her auburn hair flipping as she did so. Her hair cut in a blunt bob.

"And so are you right?" Ariela asked. The woman nodded, amazed.

"You _know _Jesus heals, and I believe He can even raise that boy from the dead. Just give me a little time. If nothing happens…" she paused, not even wanting to think of what might be if for some reason she was unable to raise him. She hadn't exactly ever tried it before. "…then shame on me for not having enough power."

"Alright, go ahead, just tell God to not let anyone stop you." The coroner said realizing that time was running out.

Constantine watched as the girl's face brightened, and saw the coroner delay the paramedics from loading Chas's body into the awaiting ambulance. He saw the girl who unzipped the black bag, and continued what she attempted inside the building. This time her hands floated above her head, smiling. Then she began to sing. Her voice was sincere, and sweet. It was positively alien sounding to John's ears as the lights from the cop cars flashing blue, and red across her face.

"_Holy, Holy, Holy merciful, and mighty, God in three persons, blessed trinity._

_Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, _

_All that that was shall praise thy name in earth and sky and sea_

_Holy, holy, holy, I cry Holy!" _

Again, and again, she sang those lines as she held Chas's pale face in her hands, while the paramedics looked on, unsure of what to do. To his surprise they suddenly grasped her by the arm, and pushed her aside, but only long enough to push Chas into the ambulance, and to coax her into the back with him.

"What are they doing?" John asked almost to himself.

"Maybe they don't want her to make a scene." Angela said, almost breathless from the display. It was so sure, and so strange. Her brown eyes fought back tears. She prayed that the girl somehow was able to do as she said. She wanted Chas back too, even if she didn't get to know the boy personally. She saw the way if effected Constantine, and she didn't want to lose him either. "It's only a shadow after all."

"What is?" John asked.

"In the valley of the _shadow _of death." she said trying to find hope, quoting part of Psalm 23.

Just before the ambulance doors shut, Ariela eyes looked like they were screaming as they searched to meet Angela's gaze. She was saying something but it was too dark to tell. Angela saw her lips moving as the ambulance pulled away the only word she could make out was …"pray".

Angela nodded in time for Ariela to see, she nodded back.

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**Dun, dun,. DUN! I know, cruel spot to end this chapter at. I told you it was spiritual, as it said in the category. Please have an open mind concerning this. You just may like it. Will Ariela, and her strange ways be able to save Chas?**

**PLEASE read, and review, as I'm open to what you have to say. As long as it's constructive. I'll post more once I get a review on this one. **


	2. Chapter 2 Those nights

**Disclaimer statement:  
Ok, first off let me say that I own NOTHING. "Constantine" and the "Hellblazer" comic belong to their respective companies, and owners. I do not know any of the actors, writers or crew of these works. I am making no money off of this whatsoever.  
Authors note: This story is highly spiritual, so if you don't like stories of this nature please don't read this one. Please give constructive criticism, and don't knock a story before reading it. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the story!  
A/N: I took a lot of your advice and changed certain things. I hope you like what I did with it! R&R.**

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**Chapter two: Those nights**

Once the doors shut in front of her Ariela worked to find Chas's face, which was difficult in the dark. She braced herself as the ambulance lurched forward, and headed down the dark street. The street lights rhythmically providing light in the dark space. The gurney left barely enough space for her body to fit comfortably, and she had to twist to her upper body sideways to properly hold Chas's head in her hands. His skin was beginning to grow cold, and she knew she must act quickly. Fancy words and phrases seemed to evaporate from her brain, so she just let her heart cry out amongst the intruding sounds of metal clinking, and equipment jostling about as the vehicle moved.

"Jesus, I know you sent me for a reason. You are the healer. Please save your child, and let him live to give glory to Your name." she said, her throat tightening increasingly with each word. She grew wearier of fighting them, so she released a sob into the air. "Lord, I'm asking as Your bride. Please, bring him back!" she said, suddenly feeling a twinge of righteous anger rise in her. Her gaze focused above her, and suddenly she realized that she didn't need to look up. God was right there with her, most likely by her side. The realization sent a powerful chill up her spine and her hands began to shake. She knew the feeling well. It happened when her spirit felt His truth so near, it overwhelmed her body. She laid her head on Chas's, and blew on his face, above his mouth even though it hurt her body to position herself in such a way in the cramped space. She let her tears fall onto his face, and recited the verses she knew to display her faith.

"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all." she said, as she gently stroked Chas's curly damp hair. She felt her lungs strangely expand as the words left her mouth, and she exhaled back out into Chas's face. Sudden warmth filled her hands as she held his face.

"Lord?" she asked, not scared but curious as to what was going on. The ambulance then took a sharp turn, and pulled her to the opposite side of the vehicle. The position forced her to view his body from the side, instead of above like before. She placed a curious hand on the black bag's zipper, and pulled in down lower to reveal Chas's chest. She placed her hand where he heart would be located and jumped back. She expected his head to be warm from holding it for so long, but not his chest. "Thank you." she breathed, as a new wave of tears flooded her eyes and poured down her face. Next, she gently placed her head on his chest, and placed one hand at his pulse point on his neck. After a few moments she thought she felt a faint beat press again her fingers and her ear. She could feel the vehicle starting to slow, and struggled to stand to look outside the small window at the back door. Indeed they had arrived at the morgue, and not at a red light. The building was gloomier than she thought. A large gray building looming against the pre-dawn sky. She thought she could smell the formaldehyde even from inside the vehicle. She could see a car come to stop behind them and wondered if it was the woman that was with John earlier. She squinted to focus, and thought she caught of a glimpse of her dark hair as the streetlight illuminated part of her car. She did however hear the voice of the driver of the ambulance call to someone.

"Yes?" Ariela asked, steadying herself, even though it was difficult. The air in the space felt heavy around her.

"What's the update back there?" A voiced asked. She knew it as the voice of the coroner. Ariela smiled to herself, tears flooding her eyes once more. She was unsure of what to say, they most likely already thought of her as crazy. Before she could think of what to say, the doors of the ambulance swung open making Ariela jump. She suddenly felt her legs give way from standing so strangely in the tight space, and reached outward to catch herself. Her head felt a strange buzz, and a she started to see a fog come in through the top of the doors. The coroner saw it too, and stepped back in shock. Ariela tried to speak, but instead strange syllables came out of her mouth, and her legs grew weak again. She grasped the gurney bars to steady herself. "Come on, get her out of there." the coroner instructed, as paramedics swarmed around the ambulance. One young man reached out for her, and she followed, or tried as her legs were tingling and giving way as she navigated the tight space. Finally on solid ground again, she slid down, and sat on the pavement, suddenly feeling unable to move. She forced herself to look back as Chas's gurney was taken down.

"Check his heartbeat," she managed to say, pointing at the gurney.

Constantine sat with Angela in her car, unable to move, staring into space.  
"Do you want to see what's happening?" Angela asked, breaking the silence. John shot her a dark look. "Look, either he's still dead…" Angela said, grasping his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "…or he's alive." Constantine pulled his face away.

"I don't want to know." he said, clearly lying.

"Oh that's Bull, and you know it!" Angela said, losing her usual composure. Before John could answer they heard a loud knocking. It was the Coroner, gesturing for them to follow her. Angela, unbuckled her seatbelt, and followed the Coroner. Her stomach felt tight from the anticipation of what could happen. She looked ahead of her, and saw the Ariela's pale gold hair as she was leaned up against Chas's gurney, with obvious tears in her eyes. She must have heard her footsteps because she looked up, and smiled weakly. She looked where Chas lay and saw Ariela's hand snuggly wrapped around Chas's. Angela strode forward on the hard pavement, each step feeling like an eternity. She finally stood by Ariela's side, and glanced at the gurney, to see Chas peering up at her. She almost jumped out of her skin as a sharp chill ran down her spine. She heard the boy laugh, closely followed by Ariela. The girl reached towards her, and embraced her.

"Thanks for the prayers." she whispered in her ear, her voice catching in her throat and her knees began giving way. She slipped out of Angela's grasp, and into a very surprised dark haired man's. His pretty brown eyes widened with astonishment as he steadied her. His eyes studied Chas for a few moments.

"Hey Dude." Chas said, his voice a bit raspy. Constantine laughed abruptly, and walked forward to him slowly. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, but here he was in front of him. Alive. Breathing. He placed his hand on his shoulder, and Chas did the same and gave him a shy smile. John couldn't speak, for he knew if he did he'd lose control. He couldn't risk that. Chas looked up at him understandingly. He knew that just because he didn't _say _anything, didn't mean he didn't _feel _anything.

"Hey man, I know you're glad I'm back." Chas said after a few awkward moments of silence. Constantine nodded, and turned to Ariela.

"Thanks kid." John said to Ariela, patting her shoulder lightly as she sat on the pavement.  
He then wiped away the small amount of blood that was still around his nose. His gaze then floated over to Ariela who was now seated on the ground.

"Hey, Ariela, are you ok?" Chas asked. Her name sounded so good to him. He hadn't been able to say it for so long. She was prettier than ever, with her hair longer, and her white top gracefully highlighting her pleasant curves. She looked like an angel seated the way she was.

"I feel all tingly." she said simply as she tried to pull herself up off the concrete. She looked like a drunken person to Chas. Chas laughed and extended a hand to her. She took it, and pulled herself up with his help, up to her knees anyway. "I think this is far as I go." she said blushing.

An hour or so later, Chas emerged from the hospital where their resident doctor had given him an examination, and ex-rays to make sure all was well. Aside from a few cuts and bruises he was given a clean bill of health. He also made sure that his death certificate was done away with, and his recovery recorded as "miraculous". He didn't want to have his obituary printed up in the paper for his friends and family to read. He felt it was best to the incident quiet. He knew what happened, and that was what was important. She looked over in the direction of a familiar female voice, and saw that Ariela could finally stand without falling over. He chuckled to himself, and bid his goodbyes to the people handling his legal papers. It was time to thank the girl who'd been so brave; even though he had let the friendship they once had slip away. True, she had gone off to Bible College, but that was no reason to forsake their friendship. His stomach tied up in knots just thinking of it. He took a deep breath of the warm, humid LA air and let it out as he approached her. He must have been looking at her strangely, due to what she said.

"Chas, why are you looking at me like that?" Ariela asked, meeting his gaze. He shuffled his feet nervously for a moment.

"Because you brought me back, I didn't know you could do that."

She chuckled softly at his remark. "I have a feeling there's a lot you don't know. Like the fact that it wasn't really me." she said not taking her eyes off his face. She couldn't as she was scared her friend would disappear if she did.

"Well, you obeyed the Big Guy, isn't that saying something? You're gifted, you know?" he said, not sure how to express himself but never letting his gaze waver. The girl laughed as his sincerity.

"Yeah, but _He _calls the shots. I'm just glad you made it to Him." she said knowing suddenly he had made peace with God shortly before his death. "I didn't know you loved Him."

Chas laughed and shook his head. "Well fighting a demon will make you love Him, or else you end up with _them _for all eternity."

"Too true." she said smiling, "But are you mad at me, for bringing you back?"

"Nah…" he said shaking his head "…I figured if my meeting with the Big J had to end, He had a pretty good reason for it." he said. Gosh, she loved his sincerity, how he made "Big J" not sound irreverent.

"Hmm, yeah, I guess so." she said, smiling up at him. There was so much she wanted to ask him. Their conversation was interrupted by Angela mentioning getting her, Chas and Constantine back home.

"My car is still at Ravenscar, I think I can drive home from there." Ariela said, quickly following Angela with Chas and Constantine ahead of her.

"I don't know if I want you or Chas driving tonight. I saw how unsteady you were on your feet a while ago." Angela said, shaking her head. "I think I'd rather take you to the hospital, and then have police transports take you to your home. I'll follow you and bring your car home."

"I, I think I want to go with her…" Chas said, stopping short of opening Angela's car door. "…if that's all right with her."

"Don't worry," Ariela explained to Angela who was looking at Chas strangely. "I live with my folks."

"_So_…" Constantine deadpanned.

"If you are concerned about my virtue Constantine, Chas would sleep on the couch in the living room." Ariela said, after walking up to Constantine, so only he could hear. "If it puts your mind at ease…" she paused, to get his attention. "…I can lock my bedroom door."  
He scoffed at her and suddenly wished he had a cigarette. He didn't like this little church-girl telling him off. He shook his head as he watched her stride over to where Chas stood beside Angela's car.

" Well, w-what did you say to him?" Chas asked, stuttering a bit.

"Something to put his mind at ease." she said patting Chas on the shoulder as he opened Angela's car door for her. She thanked him, and slid into the far back seat, and was followed by Chas. She slumped, suddenly tired, and rested her head again the window. The street light gently illuminated her face, and Chas found himself staring. It seemed that ever since she had blossomed as a young woman he found himself staring at her. Sure, he had stared at plenty of girls other than her. The thing about LA was it's obsession with being seen as attractive. Ariela somehow was a California girl, without becoming a blond bimbo with only her looks to get her a paycheck. Sure, she could make money that way, with her pretty face and lean build, but it never appealed to her. She has always been what people in LA would call a "good girl". She didn't spend her days shopping in the image-obsessed boutiques, or her nights in beautiful places that turned ugly as soon as the lights went down. She didn't wear clothes that barely covered her, or flirted with boys for amusement.

The car lurched forward, and Chas quickly buckled his seatbelt around himself. He glanced out the rear window to see a police transport moving to follow them. Angela was serious about their protection tonight, and he knew someone else who was too. His body trembled at the reality that he had as of a few hours ago, stood before the Creator of the universe. He had heard stories about what people saw in near-death experiences. Some said they saw a white light, and others had different stories. He remembered looking up at Constantine, and suddenly he felt the life drain from him, like someone who pulled the plug out of a lamp. He only briefly witnessed his own body on the ground beside an angry Constantine. It was a wonder to him, how the hard, often calloused Constantine could be angry and grieving even, over him. From there Chas remembered feeling his spirit drawn upwards like a magnet, as he eyes seemed to be opened to all things unworldly. He saw angels fending off the demons that wanted desperately to claim him, even though it was futile. He couldn't even feel fear, just a strange peace as he was drawn even higher as points of light rushed by him, against the deep blue sky.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the rustling of papers next him. He looked in the direction of the sound to see that Ariela's Bible had fallen from her lap. It lay open, its pages facing down on the car's interior. He looked over at her, and she didn't stir. How long had I been thinking for? He thought to himself, as the car slowed to a stop in front of Ariela's car, a mustang of some sort. The sight jogged his memory, as this was the same car that he and Ariela would ride in, with the windows down driving nowhere in particular. He had taught Ariela how to drive in that car, even though she was older than he. She was scared to death of driving in the crazy LA traffic. He chuckled at the memory of her panicked face, and her white knuckles on the steering wheel. It was a far cry from the courageous woman he saw before him now. The streetlight illuminated her hair like a halo, and a strange feeling crept up in him. Some sort of vulnerability, and sudden deep respect.

"Hey kids, we're here." he heard Constantine dryly say.

"Oh, yeah, Ariela." Chas said, gently coaxing the sleeping girl awake. She stirred, and exited the car. She saw Chas smile, as he approached her car.

"Brings back memories doesn't it?" she asked, placing her hand gently on his shoulder.

"Yeah, it does." Chas said flashing a bright smile. She couldn't help but give him one in return, as she walked over to Angela to give her the car's keys.

So they proceeded as planned, with Angela driving Ariela's car alone, while Constantine, Chas, and Ariela rode in the police transport. Ariela lived a good 20 minutes from Ravenscar, in an apartment she shared with her parents. Chas remembered it as a well-kept but homey place, where they always had some form of company over. From neighborhood kids with no safe place to be after school, to Ariela's friends. There was always food in the pantry, and a welcoming embrace to be found there. They parked underneath the fire escape where Ariela had climbed down a few hours before. As soon as the cars stopped, Chas could see lights come on in the apartment above them, illuminating the brick, casting shadows on the ground below.

"You think they're mad?" Chas asked as they made their way to the front entrance.

"I sure hope not." Ariela answered as she straightened up her clothes, and wiped her eyes. It was strange enough for her to sneak out, much less sneak out, and come back with red lined eyes and company.

"I think they should count their blessings…" Constantine said as he followed closely behind, checking out the surroundings. "…I mean, most girls your age are sneaking in their bedrooms after being in their boyfriend's." he said darkly. Ariela snickered, and nodded her head while Angela scoffed at Constantine's slightly inappropriate remark. She gave Constantine a warning look, and tapped him slightly on the arm. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow but didn't speak. Angela then handed Ariela her keys, and she searched for the right key out of five she had dangling from the key ring. As soon as Ariela unlocked and opened the front door to the building, she heard her parent's voices wafting down the stairs. She flashed Chas a grin, and grasped him by the arm, and began to pull him up the stairs. Chas got the hint and matched his pace with hers. They were closely followed by Angela and John. The apartment hallways were well kept up for being so close to downtown. They had no odor of decay or sign of disrepair. They lived in a place closer to Angela's well-kept apartment than his unkempt one.

Ariela caught sight of her mother, a pretty middle aged woman, in her blue terrycloth bathrobe, with her blond hair pulled back a pony tail. She placed a finger to her lips, motioning for her to be quiet. She knew it would be hard given the circumstances, but it wasn't even dawn yet.

"Look who I found." Ariela said quietly as she embraced her mother with an apologetic look.

"Chas?" the woman said, confused, and delighted all at the same time.

"Yes, Mrs. Levy." he said, looking down at the floor suddenly realizing that he must of looked horrible, with his clothes still damp, and his eyes weary. She smiled and searched his face, suddenly knowing that the reason Ariela left in the middle of the night must have been dire. She looked over at Constantine, and Angela, and looked them up and down.

"Are you in any kind of trouble Chas?" she asked.

"Not anymore." Constantine said, stepping closer to Mrs. Levy. She examined him with her eyes, noting his eyes looking quite like Chas's, weary, and a bit bloodshot. "I'm Constantine." he continued.

"Detective Dodson," Angela said, flashing her badge briefly. It shone briefly in the light from the apartment's open door. "Chas has been through a hard time tonight, and we thought it might be nice for him to stay here. Just for tonight."

"I'll explain once we get inside." Ariela offered. Mrs. Levy was slightly unsure, but she knew it had to be something important for a cop to be addressing them.  
Angela then took out her wallet, and took two items out of it.

"Here's my number should you need it." she said handing Mrs. Levi a small card, "and some money for your trouble."

"No." Mrs. Levi shook her head. "Chas has been a guest here many times before, he's no burden."

"Please…" Angela insisted, pressing the bill into Mrs. Levy's palm. "…take it. Constantine, Chas and I owe a lot to your daughter. She saved his life, and it's the least we can do."

Mrs. Levy's suddenly turned towards her daughter, who was still beside Chas. Ariela met her mother's gaze, and smiled with tears in her eyes.  
"Actually, Yeshua did." Ariela said, not wanting to give a false picture of what had happened.

"Would you all want to come in?" Mrs. Levy asked, knowing the conversation would go more smoothly inside. "I can make coffee or tea for you." she offered.

"We might as well, it's already late, and it's not like anyone's waiting up for us." Angela answered, shrugging, welcoming the opportunity to get away from medical personnel for a while.

With that, they followed Mrs. Levi into their apartment. The apartment was a breath of fresh air compared to the stark harshness of the Morgue. It was decorated comfortably, tidy but looked well lived in. Constantine noted that the doorway contained a mezuzah, a popular Jewish reminder that God's presence was near, and to keep His words in their hearts. It seemed to be made of gold, and gleamed in the light.

"Where's dad?" Ariela asked.

"In our room…praying." Mrs. Levi said, leaving no doubt as to why he was doing so.

"Dad!" Ariela called, as she shut the apartment door. She heard movement in the other room, and soon her father emerged. He looked about the room, to see Ariela, Chas, his wife and two strangers standing in his kitchen. He raised his eyebrow, curious.

"Dad, this is Detective Dodson, Mr. Constantine, and I think you'll remember Chas Kramer."

"Yes, welcome everyone. I'm guessing they had something to do with you disappearing." he replied curious to hear the story they had to tell.

Ariela nodded, and as they all took seats in the living room, they told the night's story to the best of their abilities. Chas sat in one of the two bean bag chairs situated in the living room, as he studied Ariela's parents. They looked older, but besides that they hadn't changed much. Their eyes widened at the story, and he could see their surprise and concern etched across their faces. He rubbed his eyes; suddenly feeling like his could pass out in the chair he was sitting in. His head involuntarily bobbed forward, jerking him awake. He could hear Ariela's quiet chuckling next to him. He looked around and saw her with a clean t-shirt, and a pair of her father's shorts.

"Here, it's time you got out of those. You know where the bathroom is." she said, handing the clothes to him. By the time he came back in the room, Angela, and Constantine were saying their goodbyes at the front door.

"Oh, you guys a-are leaving so soon?" Chas asked.

"It's late Chas, and we don't want to leave the police transport waiting much longer." Constantine said, running a weary hand through his dark hair. It sure had been a whirlwind night for him. He has a feeling it was catching up with him, as he looked at the young man, who had been long gone a few hours ago. Pride swelled in his heart, and a strange emotion that grew a lump in his throat. He bid Chas goodbye with a hardy pat on the back, and a curt nod.

"I'll try to call you tomorrow, kid." was the last thing he said before heading out the door with Angela.

Chas rubbed the back of his neck, as he sleepily walked over to the living room couch, where he would spend the night. Ariela followed him, and sank back down into a tie-dyed colored beanbag chair, a few feet from him.

"Remember when we used to stay up all night?" Ariela asked, shifting her weight in her seat. Chas opened his eyes and nodded, his brown eyes meeting her hazel ones.

"Those nights kept me alive. That's not something I'd forget easily." Chas said sincerely, if not a bit nervously. Something about this girl made his lips weirdly loose.

"Really?"

"Yeah, if, I-it wasn't for you, I don't think I would of survived my parent's spilt, and all the sh…crap that went on." Chas said, being careful to censor himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, and Ariela chuckled, feeling fatigue settle in more. Her head rested against the chair, ready to fall asleep.

"You can be yourself here Chas." Ariela said as she turned of the lamp behind her.

"I know. It-it's just that I want to be different now. I have to be different now. I want to please Him." He then laid himself down on the couch; resting his head on a down pillow Ariela had set there for him. He listened to the soft hum of the running fan on the end table behind him, and he was transported. Back to the memories of long talks on humid LA summer nights, of laughter and tears, venting his frustrations about his family life. Ariela, coming from a stable family couldn't relate well to his problem, but always sat on the floor, listening like always. She was going through hard times too he found out, trying make her faith in God her own. On these thoughts he drifted into sleep.

Ariela heard his shallow breathing as she gazed up at the ceiling. She had to force herself to stand. She didn't want to leave him alone, but after all, she had to give Constantine a good report in the morning. She chuckled at the man's high expectations of her, even if he had never had such concerns before. He probably would encourage Chas to "sow his wild oats", not prevent him from it, but then again maybe she thought too little of him. Ariela stood over him, watching his face, and sighed.

"Those nights kept me alive too, Chas." she said smiling. There was plenty Chas didn't know

about her, and part of her wanted to break the silence.

--  
I told you it was spiritual. I wasn't kidding there. Yes, so Chas lives, yay!! Hopefully this chapter was still as good as the first one. So R&R, and a HUGE thank you to all who have reviewed, and/or put this story into their alerts! It's exciting to have my work followed. God bless! I haven't started on the third chapter yet, so hopefully this will keep you until then.


	3. Chapter 3 Waiting

**Disclaimer statement:**

**Ok, first off let me say that I own NOTHING. "Constantine" and the "Hellblazer" comic belong to their respective companies, and owners. I do not know any of the actors, writers or crew of these works. I am making no money off of this whatsoever. **

**Authors note: This story is highly spiritual, so if you don't like stories of this nature please don't read this one. Please give constructive criticism, and don't knock a story before reading it. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the story!**

_C_hapter Three: Waiting

Constantine stood outside his downtown apartment, with Angela standing in front of him. They stood in silence, not knowing

what to say to each other. Feelings of unbelief threatened to surface in his heart. Was he really that close to the Alpha and

Omega? Was Chas really safe? Was God good? Could God still accept him? Could he lose his place in Heaven?

His gaze lingered on the pavement beneath his feet. He heard Angela's clothes rustle, and her sigh.

"We should get cleaned up." she said. His body shivered at the suggestion, knowing it would mean her presence lingering

longer.

His mind was racing with thoughts. Some were of love, some of desire, and some of faith. He secretly wished he didn't have

such a woman in front of him. The trauma they had endured made them closer, and that was something he feared. She saw

so much, and he desperately wanted to make it stop, and make it continue at the same time. Part of him wanted to sweep

her up in his arms, carry her upstairs, and hold her forever. Another part wanted to push her away, and never speak to her

again.

"Do you want me to leave Constantine?" he heard her soft voice ask. He silently thanked God for her question. Surprisingly

he wanted her to stay. He couldn't stand being alone tonight. He needed her watch and compassion

that emanated from her tonight. Even if it was only for a little while.

"Not yet." he said, finally looking up, and meeting her rich-brown gaze. She smiled weakly, and they proceeded upstairs

together. Angela couldn't help but reach for his hand, and when he felt her warmth, something inside him broke apart. He

sucked in a sharp breath, and tears stung at his eyes. He placed his hand to his face, still unwilling for her to see him like

this.

"Hey, it's ok." she murmured softly, reaching to cradle his head in her hands. His face was scrunched up in a grimace, and he

sunk to the floor with Angela still holding him. He was suddenly was racked with a sob that rose up from someplace deep

within his soul. The night had taken its toll, and he was overwhelmed. He had almost lost Angela, Chas, and his own life in

the same night. Angela just sat on the stairs, and placed her chin atop his head, stroking his hair gently. She wanted to hold

him for however long he allowed, and she sensed it wouldn't be long.

They sat in relative silence for a while give or take a few murmured words of comfort, until Constantine insisted he stand,

and go get some rest.

As she bid her goodbyes, and stood watching him close his door, she felt a strange tug at her heart; a tug that was not from

her, or even Constantine. It felt like an urge, a voice, and a physical presence all at the same time. Her eyes darted here and

there, all across the stairwell, and hallways. She saw nothing, and felt the feeling grow within her.

"What is it?" she whispered as she slowly made her way down the stairs. They creaked as she placed her weight on them.

There was something about nighttime that made any sound seem so amplified. She felt watched, but oddly it didn't distress

her. She felt a similar feeling when Ariela could hardly stand at the morgue. She could feel it in Ariela's smile, laughter, and in

Chas's eyes. Such joy, such peace dwelt in the air, like a shaft of light in a dark room. Angela highly suspected Constantine

felt it too, even though it would be tough to get him to admit it. She listened, waiting for some impression, some voice,

anything. Her mind and heart reached out.

"I'm here when you seek me with all of your heart." she thought she heard something say. It was not a thundering voice,

not a cloud, not wind but a small voice.

"Ok." she breathed into the air, suddenly feeling it thickening as she left Constantine's building. She entered her car, and

turned the engine on, feeling that she get home as soon as she could. Something was following her, but she felt little fear.

Every time it tried to take her in its icy grip, she pushed it away, and felt a fire melt it away in her soul. She drove through

the L.A. streets, and her body seemed to ache for a shower, and her warm bed. Maybe then whatever was following her

would reveal itself, or even better, let her sleep. A few hours ago she thought she had found her gifting as a physic, and

now her encounter with the blond haired miracle worker had challenged her view. Something so powerful hung on the girl.

An authority and power that even Constantine couldn't muster. For a moment, she thought she saw him intimidated by the

girl.

When she finally got to her apartment, she unlocked the door, and was greeted by her Russian blue cat, Duck. He meowed

and brushed up against her legs, and then slinked away, the way cats do. She shook her head, and set her keys down on

her counter, and proceeded to take a much needed and welcome shower. The feeling of the warm water loosed her tense

muscles, and calmed her stretched nerves. She had been so close to losing her life tonight, and given what happened when

Constantine had helped her visit hell. Sure, it was only for a minute or so, but it would probably take her an eternity for her

to get the sights of the people screaming, and rotten smells out of her mind. Her faith in God saved her didn't it? She had

been baptized as an infant, and went to church for comfort, and for confession. She was never really a party girl in school,

and lived a decent life. She had also dabbled in the occult as a child, with her twin sister, using Ouija boards, participating in

séances and the like. Her and her sister had the gift, to see what others couldn't. Her sister, around the age of puberty

started to babble about angels, God, and demons, so much that her parents thought her mentally ill. Angela knew that her

sister believed God was the only One that really loved her, but was it enough? She knew her sister was in heaven now, but

it didn't give her peace for her own soul. Her hand reached up to her face and pushed her dark hair back from it, as the

warm water ran down her skin. She leaned up against the shower wall, weary, with questions burning into her she was

walking on hot coals. She turned the water off, and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a white towel around herself as

she did. She grasped the comb at her vanity, and began to run it through her dark locks. She glanced at herself in the mirror,

for a moment. Did she look changed? She searched her face looking back at her, and she saw her brown eyes looked tired,

and desperate, and that surprised her. She thought she had fulfilled part of her purpose, more than she had in all her years

in the police force.

Distraught, she set down the comb, and flung herself into her bed, burying her head in the soft pillow, as her still wet hair

dripped onto her bed. He hands reached up beside her head, and grasped the sides of it. It was devastating to feel so

strange now, all because of a voice asking her to seek it with all of her heart. She wondered at his for a moment, and felt an

urge to look to her left, and as she did she spied her Bible laying open on her nightstand. She blinked curiously, as she didn't

remember having it out. A hot twinge of excitement rushed inside her. She often times had felt comfort from its words. She

lifted herself to a sitting position, and grasped the bible. She looked down at the page, and recited the first verse she saw.

"You will seek me, and find me when you seek me with all of your heart." she recited into the air, and she felt the tug again

in her soul. Something within her think she had the strength to seek with all of her heart tonight. There were still too many

questions, and doubts plaguing her mind. The Catholic faith had been unkind to her as of late, not allowing her sister to

have Catholic burial, just because they believed she took her own life. Well, she found out Isabel actually had, and that

shook her. She thought her sister's beliefs would have given her enough hope to keep on living. Was there a difference

between her faith as she knew it, and what Ariela had? She could feel a kinship with the girl, even though her methods were

strange.

Becoming too tired to think of this, she slipped on a nightshirt and went to sleep, with questions still in her head. She could

still feel the warm presence that had spoken to her earlier. It seemed to hang in the air like humidity, and stick to her skin.

She didn't mind it, because as mysterious as it was, for once that night she felt completely safe. She treasured the feeling in

her heart, even if it just lasted for the night. She could feel her senses fade as she lay against her soft sheets, and soon she

was asleep.

When she woke up, she rolled over and glanced at her alarm clock. It read 11:00am, and she silently thanked God she had

scheduled this day off. She would have been hours late to work at the station otherwise. The light from nearly midday was

streaking through her drawn curtains, and she could hear the morning traffic below. She felt pressure suddenly on the bed,

and soon found Duck, right next to her face. She jumped at the suddenly development, and then chuckled.

"Hey Duck." she said scratching the cat's head, only slightly amused. The cat purred, and then slinked away, his work

completed. Assuming the creature was hungry she slowly made her way into the kitchen, and found Duck sitting, flicking his

grey tail impatiently at an empty food bowl. She sighed, and searched for the remedy, and found none. She could go to the

grocer on the corner, but she didn't want to go unless she had other necessities to purchase. Her life had been so hectic

and stressful the last few days, with her sister's death, and dealing with that mystery; it wouldn't surprise her if she'd

neglected a few things. She scoured her cupboards and fridge to find that she definitely needed some essentials, like the

coffee she knew she would need to stay awake. She sighed, and decided that's what she must do. Within a few minutes

she was ready, and went to start her walk to the store.

Meanwhile, Ariela was just stirring from the most restful sleep she could ever remember having. She heard the distinctive

sound of a pan banging softly on the stove, and lifted her head to further listen to what was going on. A feeling of gladness

was in there air, and she was grateful for it. She needed it to drown out the disturbing images, and stresses of last night.

She then pushed her sheets off herself, and walked over to her bedroom door, where she opened it slowly, and peaked out.

She couldn't see much, just hear muffled voices, and she guessed they still thought she was asleep. She then glanced over

at her clock and it read a quarter past 11am. She stretched, and went into her bathroom to take a quick shower, making

sure to lock the door. Not that anyone would walk in on her, but she had to be sure all bases were covered, in case

someone pushed their luck. She blushed and shuddered a bit at the thought of Chas strolling in on her. They weren't exactly

14 anymore, and they had both matured in more ways than one. Chas looked like he grew about 3 inches since she saw him

last, as he was now taller than her 5'9'' frame. She glanced in the direction of the mirror, and studied her face for a moment.

She had always wondered if she looked different after an encounter with the more mysterious, powerful side of her God.

Moses had to hide his face after coming down from Mount Sinai, after encountering the Lord. It was surprising that Chas's

face didn't glow. Maybe it did, and she didn't know it yet. It wasn't the manifestation that interested her, as much as the

privilege of carrying such a transparent indicator of the glory of Adoni Himself. As she pondered this for a moment, she

searched her eyes, looking for any indication of something, anything. When she didn't think anything was indicated in them,

and moved on to start her shower. She made quick work of it, and soon emerged from her bathroom, and changed into a

red tank top, making sure it covered the "unmentionable" clothing item she wore under it and denim shorts. One thing about

L.A. was that the heat gave license for some girls to wear clothes that left little to the imagination, or looked as if they

painted them on. It felt like a particularly hot in her room, as the humidity seemed to hang in the air, intruding on her

attempt to dry her hair with her towel. If it was this hot before noon, she could only imagine what it would be in the

afternoon. She poked her head out of her bedroom door again, and was greeted with the savory scent of latkes; a pancake

of sorts made from shredded potato and onions fried in oil. Surprisingly Chas was over the stove, flipping them gently,

seemingly quite proud of himself given the grin he sported. She stepped out from her room, and made not a few steps when

he looked up, and chuckled.

"Hail, Mary." Chas said letting out a short giggle. Ariela tilted her head to the side, confused until she noticed her towel was

still on her head, draping over her shoulders, yes, not unlike a head-covering. So she did what any other self respecting girl

would do in her situation; she acted as if nothing was wrong. She simply arranged the towel so it would look even more like

her, or what she was often portrayed to be like in the many shrines around the city. He just watched as she pulled a chair

close to him, and sat.

"Boker tov. Ma shlomcha ?" she asked, shooting him a coy look. Chas bit his lip, struggling against the tickle in his throat that

told him to laugh. Ariela bit her lip too, and that broke Chas's resolve. The laughter he kept in hissed, and then burst out as

he grasped his sides, narrowly avoiding being burned from the stove. Ariela couldn't help but follow his lead, shaking her

head as she did so. She hadn't realized how much she missed that laugh of his.

"What…" he managed to squeak out before another torrent of laughter grasped him, "…did that mean?"

Ariela grinned and then answered, "Good morning, and how are you doing?"

Chas chuckled, and flipped another one of the latkes before it burned from neglect. Ariela smiled, and took the towel off her

head. It had been so long since she'd seen Chas in her apartment much less in her kitchen, years in fact. "Wow, years," she

thought. "Why was it years?" A cold wave of realization filled her, and she must have grimaced because she soon heard

Chas's voice.

"What's wrong?" he said, as he turned the burner off. He then set the spatula down, and was at her side in no time. Ariela

looked up to see his pretty brown eyes looking down on her with concern. She shook her head, not wanting to bring up such

a subject. She wasn't quite sure it mattered. "Come on, Aire." he insisted. He pulled up a chair next to her and sat down.

The long lost sound of her nickname caused Ariela to swallow a lump in her throat. She looked away for a moment, until she

felt the warm contact of his hand on her shoulder, still slightly chilled from her recent shower. It sent a strange shock

through her, and caused her head to snap in his direction. She was suddenly aware of everything; every sense seemed to

become magnified. From the savory scent of the latkes, to the whir of the fan in the corner, to the feeling of her wet hair

brushing against her skin.

"How come you never wrote, or called while I was away?" Ariela asked, trying to sound as strong, and calm as she could.

Realization sparked in Chas's eyes, and he took his gaze from her to the wood floor. He felt a pang of remorse come over

him, and he took a ragged breath. He thought back then, to the day she left. He remembered it so well because he was the

one who drove her to the Airport, due to her parents being scheduled to work. It was early morning with the sun barely

peaking above the horizon line, painting the sky in blues and purples. She had loaded up just about everything she owned,

which fit into two check in bags, a carry on, and her purse, and put them in the back of his car.

He remembered how pretty she looked that day, dressed in khaki shorts, and an embroidered white top that made her

lightly tanned skin glow, with her light hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. She had also been nervous on the drive there,

fidgeting, going over her check-list, and avoiding small talk. He knew it was what she did when she felt out of control, then

anyway. Sitting beside him was the same girl taking off her confidence like a mask, and she was waiting for his answer.

He heard her shift her weight in her chair, and felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Chas?" she asked more insistent. He suddenly lost his composure, and swore hotly, getting up from his chair. The sudden

change made Ariela jump.

"So you're saying I hurt you?" he said, looking at her now, with anger shining in his eyes. Ariela gazed up at him, feeling the

same anger creeping up inside her, making her neck grow hot.

"I asked you a question Chas, and I thought it had a simple answer." she said, crossing her arms in front of her. "Like you

forgot…" she said, trailing off at the word forgot, knowing it may make her weep. "…like you forgot about me." she finally

said. She had that look in her eyes; the one he knew could start something ugly. Just hearing the accusation that he had

forgotten about her sent a chill down his spine. How could she of thought that he forgot about her?

"Maybe it's selfish for me to say that…" Ariela continued, swallowing the emotion in her throat.

"Don't do that Aire." Chas said, looking down at the floor again. He shifted his weight on the wooden floor.

"Do what?!"

"Make it about _you_, or me _forgetting _you." Chas said, sitting on the floor in front of her, looking up to meet her gaze. Ariela

opened her mouth to speak, but Chas beat her to it. "It's never been that I didn't care, or that I don't, rather." Ariela

blinked, and sucked in a breath, as if she had just woken up from a deep sleep. She let it out when Chas leaned in, and

placed his hand on hers where it rested on her knee. "I just,-didn't know you wanted me to." His sincerity was almost

enough to break her heart. The sound of footsteps on the floorboards interrupted them, and they both looked up to see

Mrs. Levy walking towards them. '

"Hey guys. Those latkes are going to get cold." she said walking over to the plate Chas had placed them on. "They look

good Chas." she said smiling as she examined them. She didn't look at all fazed by the fact that Chas was kneeling in front

of Ariela, with his hand on hers.

"Thanks Mrs. Levi." Chas said, lifting himself off the floor. He went over to their cupboards, and took three plates out. He

then divided the latkes up on them, while Mrs. Levy chopped some fruit, and placed it in a bowl. Chas gave Ariela a sly wink,

as he placed a plate in front of her.

"I don't think she knows anything." he whispered sitting down with his own plate.

"What's there to know about?" Ariela said calmly. Chas smiled again as her mom sat down at the round table. He smiled

weakly, and grasped a fork, stabbing one of his latkes. Ariela did the same, and they proceeded to eat and chat together.

The passing moments felt overwhelming to Ariela. Last night he was gone, but now he was there, eating, and joking like

they did years ago. A twinge of regret flowed through her. He hadn't written her, but it didn't mean he wouldn't have read

her letters. She wondered why she gave up so easily. She had sent three letters, all expressing her feelings about school,

adjusting to life on dorm, and how much she missed friends. After a few weeks, when no replies came, she gave up. She

justified it by claiming that perhaps their time together was over, that she needed to let him go, and move on with her life.

Besides, she didn't want to seem like a needy, overemotional girl.

_"It was never about that."_ a voice as small as a summer breeze echoed in her head. She realized then that they both may

have been wrong, and the realization made her stomach turn. She then looked over at Chas, who was now flipping through

a Bible, her black leather-bound one, which he had brought with her last night.

"Ariela, look at this." he said, handing the Bible to her. She took it from him, and set it down in front of her plate as she

chewed a piece of a strawberry. Chas leaned over and pointed to the verse he had been reading. She read it and smiled.

"What do you think it means?" Ariela said, cocking her head to the side.

"I think it's pretty straight forward." Mrs. Levy responded, skimming the verse herself. Chas shook his head.

"No, I think it's you, know, for someone else." Chas responded, grinning. Intrigued at this interesting development, Ariela

leaned in towards him.

"So, who do you think it is?" she asked, suddenly feeling a surge of hot energy, like she always did when someone

proposed an adventure of sorts. Chas looked just as keyed up as she, and he leaned back in his chair.

"You have Angela's number right, Mrs. Levy?" Chas asked with a smirk. She looked up, and nodded. She then went over to

the fridge, where she had placed the card. She handed it to Chas and he made the call. It rang three times, and then the

voicemail picked up. So they left her a message.

It was a little past noon when Angela made her way up her apartment stairs, with her arm wrapped around a paper bag

containing her groceries. The bag crinkled as she hugged the bag closer so her free hand could grasp her keys, and unlock

her apartment door. She was grateful for the cool of the air-conditioning inside after her walk to and from the grocery store

at the corner. It was surprisingly hot, even for LA for it only being noon. Once again, Duck greeted her at the door with an

agitated meow, as his food bowl still sat empty. She consoled the cat with a brief stroke on the head. She set the groceries

down on the counter, and made quick work of feeding Duck, and placing the refrigerated items away. She decided the other

things could wait while she entered her office to check her messages. She saw one of the answering machines lights flash,

and pressed the "play" button.

"Hey Angela, this is Chas." she heard the message say.

"And Ariela" she heard a female voice say. She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, well Angela I was…"

"_We _were." she heard Ariela correct.

"Yeah, sorry, _we _were reading something that we wanted to share with you." Chas continued. She then heard the sound of

flipping pages, and a whispered command.

"Hurry, Chas."

"Yeah, Air, I got it. Umm, yeah, here it is. Ready? Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that

times of refreshing may come from the Lord, and that's Acts 3:19. But yeah, I wanted to share that, call us back when you

get the chance. Thanks.

"Aren't you going to give her the number?"

"She's a cop, I think she knows it." Chas remarked.

"Oh, and also Jeremiah 29:13."

The familiar passage flooded Angela's mind once again, and she stood paralyzed in wonder. Three times the same words

had been brought her to attention. It couldn't be a coincidence and the more she lived, the less she thought anything was a

coincidence.

She knew that that she had to repent and she had to wait. Waiting, she hated that concept of waiting. A cold wave of doubt

crept up within her, but she fought against it like she would a deadly assailant. She had the same feeling tense feeling, that

gripped her heart, and made it beat erratically. Every sense magnified and a cold sweat crept up on her.

She shivered, and rubbed her bare arms, the shirt she wore not being enough to shield her from the room's sudden chill. Her

eyes and heart searched here, there everywhere for the presence she felt so comforted by last night. The presence that

seemed to hover over her like a cloud, and made her sleep surprisingly sweet. She slowly strode to the place she felt it last.

Her bedroom, and lay down her bed in the way she did previously.

"Alright." she said, sighing. "I'm waiting."

--  
**So the spiritual theme continues, and so does the mystery. No, I didn't forget about Constantine, or about the Spear of Destiny. I'll feature more about those when Angela leaves to be rid of the artifact. Since she'll be gone (for a while), so I'll focus more on Chas, Ariela, and Constantine. Expect more tension, questions, and discoveries.  
Please R&R as always. Thanks to all who have already! J God bless!  
I'm also looking for a Beta Reader. Qualities I'm looking for are: Someone who enjoys this story, has been registered on this site as a Beta Reader, and who respects where I'm coming from, and can do their job. I don't expect anyone to completely change my story, but to suggest. **


	4. Chapter 4 Better than drugs

Disclaimer statement:

Ok, first off let me say that I own NOTHING. "Constantine" and the "Hellblazer" comic belong to their respective companies, and owners. I do not know any of the actors, writers or crew of these works. I am making no money off of this whatsoever.

Authors note: This story is highly spiritual, so if you don't like stories of this nature please don't read this one. Please give constructive criticism, and don't knock a story before reading it. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the story!

Thanks to all who have commented on my story, gave ideas and wanted to read more.

Chapter Four: Better than Drugs

The sun beat down mercilessly on the city, and it was just past noon. Ariela quickly shut all their apartment's windows,

and drew the shades in an effort to block the relentless heat. She wiped her sweat lined brow as she closed the last one,

using her body weight to push the often temperamental window downward. She then wiped away the paint chips that

stuck to her hands, and carefully stepped down from the window's ledge. "Remind me to get dad to strip, and repaint that

window." she said, more to herself than to anyone. It helped her to remember little chores, and projects that hung around

the apartment. Their landlord was surprising obliging in repairing broken appliances, fixtures, and even plumbing, but

when it came to more cosmetic repairs they were left to Ariela and her parents.

Not that Ariela minded, she had always been a artistic type. The evidence was displayed around her bedroom,which

resembled more of a Middle Eastern bedroom, than one of a California hippie. She mostly blamed that on her recent

obsession all that remotely reminded her of the Biblical account of Esther, or Hadassah, as she was known to the Jewish

community. Her bedposts were lined with blue, and red fabric she found in a craft store, and pillows her friend Lila had

made for her; out of sapphire colored silky fabric decorated with stars, and tassels on each of their corners. The sheets

were basic white cotton, as anything heavier would be unwise in the sometimes stifling heat of Los Angeles.

She walked out of her room to find Chas leaning over with a tabletop fan in his hands, trying to plug it into the most

available outlet. He found one behind the stereo, which rested on a small wooden end table. He plugged it in, and soon

the whir of the fans' blades were heard. He set it down, and turned to see Ariela looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing." Ariela said, waving him off with a polite wave of her hand. She studied his already sweat lined brow, and

her brow furrowed slightly. "You know, you _can _take a shower now, if you like." Chas suddenly looked up, and a glimmer of

something caught Ariela's eye.

"Yeah, I probably should. I don't know when Constantine's gonna need me." he said sheepishly. The fantasy of spending

hours upon hours catching up with Ariela was being intruded with the reality that he most likely would be leaving soon. He

wasn't sure he could just go back to just shuttling Constantine around town. It sent a cold wave of unhappiness swept

over him, weighing on his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" he heard Ariela ask as she strode closer to him.

"I just figured all of this is going to be gone soon." Chas said looking up at her with his thick eyebrows intensifying the

sadness that was creeping into his expression. His eyes reminded Ariela of a sad puppy dog in a pet shop window. She

swore that any moment now she'd hear a whimper. She shook her head at him. Her golden hair moving back and forth.

For a spilt second the sight of it caused Chas's sense of time to still.

"Maybe for _today_, but we can I don't know, go to church together tomorrow…" Ariela suggested, and her words were cut

off, by a sudden embrace. Chas had wrapped his arms around her, and rested his head on her shoulder.

"I-I don't want to be alone, Aire." he heard him say, his voice muffled by her shirt. "I don't want to leave you alone again."

he said, pulling away from her, and taking a step back from her. Guilt was evident in his voice, and it grated on Ariela's

nerves. She wished she could just forget about what happened or what didn't happen. She knew she had to let go of the

what ifs, and the should haves. If they had any hope of a healthy future, they _both _had to forgive, and forget the past.

The regretful parts anyway.

"You aren't, you know that." Ariela said, reaching out briefly to touch his arm playfully.

He flashed her a shy smile, and changed the subject to him needing a shower. So she directed him to the linen closet, and

he proceeded to the master bath.

So she was left alone in the darkness of the room, it's long shadows, and the sounds of fans whirring, occasionally stirring

her hair. She moved to the couch where Chas had slept, and grasped the sheet he had used, and began to fold it.

Curiously, she felt some sort of grit, or dust fall on her hands as she lifted it. She set it back down on the couch, and

hurried to the kitchen were she could examine her hands. She turned on the light above the stove, and studied her

hands. She couldn't see anything at first, but she could feel something, so she turned her hands back and forth. Then she

saw a glimmer of light reflect off the creases in her hands. She looked closer, and as she did she heard Chas's voice.

"Ariela!" she heard him yell. "Come here, quick!"

She hesitated as she knew he was most likely in the shower. She shook her head, reminding herself that he would never

place her an such a situation. She called back to him.

"I'm coming. Are you decent?"

"Yeah, Air, come here!" he yelled back, sounding a bit amused. She guessed it was because of her concern about walking

in on him in the buff. She quickly made her way to the bathroom, to find Chas dripping wet, but still in the pants she'd

given him the night before. "Look, here." he said, pointing to his hair. She stepped closer, and pushed back a bunch of hair

back from his forehead. Her fingers brushing lightly against his damp brow. Indeed there seemed to be some sort of glitter

along the hairline, and a bit beyond. In such a way that she was sure he hadn't applied it himself as a hoax. It caught the

light and shone different colors as the light bounced off of them. A smile beamed from her and she laughed.

"Well, if I didn't know any better…" she said as Chas returned her smile. "I would think that was some sort of gold dust."

At the suggestion Chas's lips turned up at the ends even more, and he let out an energetic laugh.

"Ha! I knew it! I knew it!" Chas said examining his hair in the mirror again. "I saw it when the water started to wash it out

of my hair."

"I can see that." Ariela said gesturing to him dripping wet in pants that were beginning to become waterlogged.

"Man, God is so, so…cool." Chas said simply. In any other person using the word "cool" to describe God may of sounded

cliché, or understated, but it sounded so sincere coming out of Chas. His tone then became lower, and his smile faded into

a frown. "But why would He put gold dust on me?" he asked, looking back at Ariela. Ariela thought for a moment and her

gaze wandered to the floor. She didn't want to over simplify such a thing, nor did she want to over emphasize the

miraculous sign. A simple thought popped into her head just when she couldn't think of anything to say. Her head slowly

turned back up to met Chas's shy gaze, as he watched her.

"Because He loves you." Ariela said simply, holding up her hands so Chas could see the dust on her hands as well. "It was

on the sheets I gave you." Chas smiled again, his face solemn.

"Well I should take my shower now. I'll try to save some of it if I can." Chas said, his voice low. He felt a sudden

awkwardness creep up on him as he stood before her in just the pair of pants she had given him. She gave him a curt

nod, and slowly walked away. He breathed a sigh of relief and went on to complete what he started; taking his shower.

The water was still running when he stepped back onto the tub. As the water reached his hair, he spied a few more

sparkling particles run down along with the water. It seemed wrong to let such a gift go literally down the drain. So he

bent down, searching for the stopper, and put it in place. At least then maybe he could save some of it. It wasn't the sign

he wanted, but the wonder of what God had allowed to happen in the past 24 hours. It filled his mind with a acute

wonder, that almost made him shake to let himself dwell on it. His throat tightened, but he took a deep breath to

suppress it.

"Thanks." he breathed into the humid air. "I don't know why you're paying so much attention to me, but thanks. Oh, and

I'm sorry if that sounds lame." At that moment he wished he could think of some elaborate, beautifully worded prayer, but

yet as soon as he thought of it, he felt an overwhelming feeling came over him. It was of love, and acceptance, so

powerful he had to gasp for breath as he washed his hair. It felt good, he had to admit that. It reminded him of being

high. Was that alright, to feel like he was high on some sort of drug? While Chas had never been a big drug user, he

would be lying if he claimed to never have experimented with marijuana on occasion. He had taken a few puffs of the stuff

when it was passed around at a friend's party, but he had never purchased it himself. He couldn't forget how dry it made

his mouth, and the flood of fear that would come over him after a he took a puff. Sure, it gave him pleasant feelings at

first, but after that wore off, he was felt emptier than before.

This high was pure, and so far had no side effects, yet anyway, as when he finally stepped out of the shower, he had to

steady himself against the sink. He then took his towel from the rack, and wrapped it snugly around his waist. The mirror

in front of him was foggy, and so he wiped the condensation away with his hand. He looked at himself in the mirror

combed his hair with the comb he guessed Ariela set there. The light in the room reflected off a particle of gold in his hair

as he moved the comb back and forth, and he almost lost his footing again.

"What in the world?!" he asked almost to himself as he steadied himself again on the sink. His head felt like he had just

taken a sip of some very good alcohol, and he laughed to himself. "If this is You," he breathed into the heavy air, "keep it

coming."

He then looked around and realized he didn't see any clean clothes to put on. It snapped him out of his daze, as he snuck

a look out the bathroom door, only to see a clean T-shirt, and shorts resting on a end table. When he lifted them up he

chuckled as he saw a pair of boxers fall out from underneath the shorts. He could just picture a blush coming to Ariela's

cheeks as she came across them. It made him realize that he indeed was standing in the hallway, in nothing but a towel,

so he rushed back in the bathroom, and made quick work of dressing.

When he stepped back into the living room, he could still feel the heady sensation of the high he felt in the bathroom. He

looked down and saw Ariela spread out across one of the bean bag chairs smiling to herself, her eyes closed.

"He's here." she said without opening her eyes.

"So that's what that was." Chas responded, pulling a second bean bag chair left to her, feeling his knees begin to buckle

again. He heard Ariela chuckle.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it actually feels like, well like I'm high." Chas said, sinking into the bean bag chair, and closing his eyes like Ariela.

He thought that if he imitated her maybe he would be doing the right thing. He was unsure of the procedure when Ariela

said God was in the room.

"It's ok, Chas." she said, opening her eyes, and pulling herself into a sitting position. He heard the bean bag give way

with her movement, and he opened his eyes again. She was looking at him curiously, and giving him a strange look. The

one she always had when she had an idea.

"What?" he asked. She just smiled, and stood up, motioning him to do the same. So he stood, and looked at her curiously.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes?" Chas said, raising an eyebrow. She then grasped him by the arm, and guided him a few inches from where he

stood. She then placed her hands on top of his head.

"Do it God!" she yelled into the air, and Chas felt his head swim, and his knees begin to grow weak. He tensed for a

moment, with Ariela now holding his arms gently as he leaned against her comforting him. "It's ok Chas, trust me." Chas

didn't understand, but he knew Ariela wouldn't do anything to hurt him. He nodded, and she placed her hands on his head

again. His body then began to quiver, and jerked as Ariela began to chat syllables he had never heard. They gave him

peace even though he body seemed to be acting on it's on accord. His mind was flooded with images he had forgotten

from the time he spent in death. Tears stung his eyes, and he let out a cry, and his knees finally gave way. He felt himself

being guided down to the floor gently.

"Father!" he cried, not knowing what was happening. Ariela ran her hands through his hair, and continued to pray in the

strange language. He then felt himself what felt like drowsiness overtake him, and his head tipped back, resting in Ariela's

hands. As sounds faded from his mind, he thought he heard a phone ring.

Ariela's head snapped up as she heard the phone ring. She hesitated answering it, as she didn't want to disturb the

moment Chas was having. The phone rang again. She knew it could be Constantine calling for Chas. She thought the man

had horrible timing if that was the case. She also knew it would unkind to make Constantine worry about his friend, so

when the phone rang a third time she stood to answer it. It was good she did, as it _was _Constantine on the other line. He

really did have bad timing.

"Hey, Ariela, it's John." she heard his gruff voice say.

"Oh, hello Mr. Constantine." Ariela said quietly.

"Why so quiet kid, did I interrupt something?"

"Oh, come on, of course not!" she answered knowing full well what he could be meaning.

"Hey, I didn't mean it _that _way." John said, sounding a bit amused. "Listen, I just wanted to come over to see how Chas

was."

"Ok," Ariela said, her gaze floating over to where Chas lay, looking like he was falling asleep and waking up over and over

again. "He's fine, he's just going through something right now."

"Oh really, like what?" he asked. Ariela could hear the suspicion rise in his voice.

"I can't describe it totally. I just know he's ok." she said as she heard Chas break out into a sob.

"What was that?!" she heard Constantine ask on the other end. Fear now beginning to appear in his tone. "I'm coming

over there." she heard John say.

"Wait, he's really…" was all she was able to say before she heard a click, and then the dial tone. She sighed, and set

down the receiver. She felt stress rise in her, but she quickly pushed it away. The worst that could happen is that

Constantine would be confused watching Chas quiver, and cry on the floor. What was happening was a good thing she

knew, and something she didn't want to interfere with. Surgery of sorts was occurring on Chas's soul. He has experienced

so much pain just in the time she knew him. He had grown angry, and jaded, and focused. He began to delve into his

studies to block out the pain his parents contributed to with their messy breakup. She could only imagine what he had

gone through since. She saw his face grimace, and his eyes opened to look at her. They seemed to plead her, and she

was drawn back to his side. She stayed by his side, praying, stroking his hair gently as he did. It made her chest ache to

see Chas in such distress, but she knew he would be a better him after the time of pain ceased.

By the time she heard a hasty knock at the door, Chas's experience had been growing more intense, showing up in the

growing trembling of his body, the increased sobs, and mixed up words, ranging from grateful to angry, and back again.

Ariela stood from where she sat beside Chas, and hurried to the door. She briefly glanced through the peephole, and

opened the door quickly when she confirmed John was at the door. She quietly opened the door, and put her finger up to

her lips, signaling John to be quiet as he entered. To her surprise he listened, for a while.

"So what's going on?" John asked, his low tone not masking his agitated concern.

Ariela searched for the right words to use, as she didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

"I prayed, and he fell…" she ended up saying, demonstrating the ordeal with her body. She watched as John's eyes

scanned Chas, who briefly looked up in his direction. He stepped hastily forward, leaned down beside Chas. He then shot

Ariela a harsh look. "So you're saying _this _is _good_?" John asked clearly gesturing to Chas's red, tear blotched face and

trembling body. His eyes seemed to bore into her with suspicion. She couldn't really blame him. This kind of manifestation

wasn't want John was used to. This had a lot less to do with demons than it had to do with the repair being done on the

boy's broken soul.

"Just think of it as surgery. God knows what needs to be fixed, but like any surgery it's rarely painless." Ariela finally said,

with a certainty that surprised her.

"So you're saying he's broken?" Constantine said, while he absentmindedly touched the young man's hair.

"We all are." Ariela insisted, striding up to Constantine, and sitting on the other side of Chas. "The problem is we weren't

_meant _to be." she said, placing her hand on John's wrist, and squeezing it what John guessed a sister would.

"I can hear you guys you know." They both looked down and saw Chas staring up at them.

"How you feeling, kid?" John asked with concern in his voice.

"Ok, I think, but…" he paused, placing a hand on his chest where his heart would be located. "…my heart hurts."

Ariela chuckled, and stood to fetch Chas a glass of water. She then remembered the extreme heat of the day, and her

manners. John was a guest in her home, and she hadn't even offered him a drink yet.

"Oh, shoot, John, did you want something to drink? We have tea, lemonade, and some filtered water." Ariela said, hastily

looking through the fridge for options.

"Just water will do, thanks." John said suddenly feeling awkward being on the floor with Chas. He offered Chas his hand

as she stood, but Chas refused. He just laid back on the floor, and sighed. He listened as glasses clinked, and as liquid

was poured into them. The sound was soothing and he glanced in the direction of the sounds, feeling suddenly content,

with the intense feelings of before dying down slowly. With each breath he felt waves of peace, and love. It was just like

when he saw Jesus for the first time. He was uncertain what to do or say in that moment, when he felt a incredible

pulsating energy surround him, so powerful he felt like it would take nothing to destroy the universe, but so loving he

wanted to weep. It was true! Jesus did exist as he had heard, and read about. All uncertainty seemed to evaporate from

his brain, as the mystery was revealed. All he could remember were his eyes.

A light touch on his shoulder snapped him back into reality.

"Are you feeling ok?" he heard John ask. Chas looked at him puzzled. "Well, you said your heart hurt." Chas shook his

head.

"Oh, yeah, it felt like someone was squeezing on my heart."

"And that felt _good_?" John asked, taking a sip of the cold water Ariela had given him.

"Well, it didn't feel like a heart attack."

"More like surgery?" Ariela asked, bending down to hand Chas a glass of water.

"If they squeeze your heart in surgery than yes. Oh, and thanks." Chas said taking a much needed mouthful of water.

Ariela nodded, and Chas wiped the sweat from his brow. The growing midday heat did little to ease his pervious turmoil.

Slowly the broken pieces were being discovered. He didn't feel completely whole, but he knew he would eventually get

there. He looked around the room, looking from Ariela to Constantine. Ariela seemed to have a strange glow around her.

Maybe it was the stifling LA heat talking, or maybe it was the high feeling that still hung in the air. He looked at John

again, and gave him a weak smile. John shot one back, and dug into his pockets for something. He pulled out a piece of

gum, and popped it into his mouth.

"Hey Man, what's that for?" Chas asked.

"It's an insurance measure." he said dryly. "It's a hll of lot better than smoking again."

"So you're not sick anymore?" Chas asked, curious but happy all at the same time.

"Long story, kid, and I don't think Ariela would want to hear it."

"Why not?" Ariela asked, placing a hand on her hip, and letting her head tilt to the side. John leaned forward, resting his

arms on his knees.

"How can I expect you to believe the Devil "healed" me?"

"It's not my job to understand everything." Ariela said after a few moments of thought. "or to compare Satan's miracles to

the Lord's." she said scoffing.

"He's a counterfeiter anyway, man. He can't create anything, but only copy." Chas said with a confidence that surprised

him. Ariela nodded, and Constantine shot Chas a hard look. Chas sighed to suppress some strange anger in him. It wasn't

at John but rather at the darkness he could sense creeping into his thoughts. "I've done some crazy crap in my life, some

drugs included, and man, one thing about God, he's way better than that."

"So He got you high?" John said.

"He's the original high John…" Ariela said, sitting down beside him.

John scoffed slightly at this, and shook his head. He wasn't ready to give up his way of thinking, not yet. This Jesus would

have some explaining to do before he said he was better than drugs.

--

**So new developments, and some new supernatural happenings. Are they crazy, or just really enlightened? I know it was highly spiritual, and maybe a bit lightweight, but believe me, the darkness will come. Please R&R! **


	5. Chapter 5 Angels Cry

-**Disclaimer statement:**  
**Ok, first off let me say that I own NOTHING. "Constantine" and the "Hellblazer" comic belong to their respective companies, and owners. I do not know any of the actors, writers or crew of these works. I am making no money off of this whatsoever.**

**Authors note: This story is highly spiritual, so if you don't like stories of this nature please don't read this one. Please give constructive criticism, and don't knock a story before reading it. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the story! Thanks to all who have commented on my story, and wanted to read more. **

**Chapter 5: Angels cry **

**"Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?"Psalm 56:8 (King James Version)**

Soon after Chas's spiritual experience died down, Ariela suddenly realized that Chas hadn't contacted his mother since the day before. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it earlier, and wondered why Chas didn't mention it.

"Chas?" Ariela asked, looking up from the drawing she was working on.

"Yeah Air?" Chas, responded, as he looked up from the love seat he was sitting on, sipping leisurely from a glass of lemonade, thoroughly enjoying relaxing, and not worrying about John, or anything supernatural for a while. John had given him the afternoon off to recuperate, then he would take him to check on Angela in the evening.

"Well, it just occurred to me that we didn't call your mom last night. Why didn't you say something?" Ariela asked. Chas chuckled.

"Uh, huh. Let me guess; You told her you were visiting a friend, when you really went to Ravenscar with John?" Ariela said.

Chas rubbed the back of his neck, and grinned sheepishly.

"Uh, I told her I was visiting a friend, and I was, mind you. I just happened to go to Papa Midnite's after Angela was taken by Gabriel,…" Chas said, before Ariela's voice interrupted him.

"Long night I know, the point is; call her!" Ariela said, extending her cordless phone to him. He took it, and dialed. He laughed as he saw Ariela leaned against the couch with her arms folded.

"Calm down Mom, I'm on it." Chas said, flashing her a look of fake annoyance. A pillow was thrownin his direction in response, just before his actual mom answered. She sounded a bit surprised, but relieved. He didn't quite know what to say, but he was at a friend's house. So he gave her a extremely vague story of what happened the night before. Nothing about his death, or the demonic activity, of course. His mother sounded confused, but was too tired to press the situation, as she really had pulled the overnight shift at the diner. If only his mother knew that just several hours ago that he had been dead, maybe she would of stayed on the phone longer. She would of likely been devastated beyond words. After his dad left, he became her world. Chas felt a pang of regret flow through him when he thought of all of the things he hadn't told her in recent months. With John's line of "work", he couldn't exactly entertain her with stories. Besides, she was freaked out enough by finding all the literature that collected in his room about demonology, the paranormal, witchcraft, and exorcisms. It became a bone of contention with his mother, who thought dabbling in such dark reaches of spirituality would be damaging to him. She was right, in more ways than one. The bruises on his body, and his relationships proved it. He finally hung up the phone,  
and turned to Ariela.

"I think it's time to check up on Angela. She's got a funeral to plan." Chas said with a sigh.

He hated funerals, and the tears, and the faces that looked like they may never smile again. He hated how it always seemed to be rainy and cold whenever he attended one. It was a foreboding feeling to be standing in a dark, cheerless yard with blocks of stone lined up, with cold etching of words across them. Some were adorned with stony crosses, or a majestic angel keeping watch over the grave site, while others were as basic as they came with just a stone parallel to the ground with a name, a date, a dash and another date. He secretly wondered what was going on behind-the-scenes there, whether angels or demons wandered around. Did angels cry over death of saints, or even sinners? Did demons rejoice when a soul died without being redeemed? It would be nice to know. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Before he knew it Chas had gathered his things, left Ariela and was driving to Constantine's place in his cab. Ariela had stayed behind, but had given Chas a number of a clergyman who may be able to give Angela's sister, Isabel a Catholic funeral. John was standing under the flickering neon "Bowl, Bowl, Bowl" sign, as he pulled up to the curb outside John's apartment. A pang of sorrow echoed through his heart as he thought of Beeman, the friendly if not offbeat owner, being now deceased. When John took his seat in the back of Chas's cab, and the seat creaked under his weight, it felt strange, like nothing else was going to be the same, even though it looked that way from the outside looking in. He had been so hard on Chas before, squashing his childlike enthusiasm, and basically telling him to "shut up and drive", or just plain "shut up". There were many times Chas just could of said "F*&^ you" and walked away, but for some reason unknown to him, he never did. The kid gave his life to help save Angela's life, and possibly the world from a fate worse than death. Hell on earth. "Where to, boss?" Chas asked, as he chewed a bite of a red licorice stick. John looked up, and chuckled slightly. "To Angela's.""Yeah, I know that much, but where does she live?" Chas asked flashing him a furrowed brow from the rear view mirror. John told him, and popped another piece of gum into his mouth. It was an awkward transition from cigarettes, but much cheaper, and less life-threatening than his previous habit. As they drove John gazed intently out the car's windows, searching for any sign that the battle they fought last night was over, for now. He looked for anything that gave him a feeling that"someone" was angry, or unusual about the people who walked about the streets leading to Angela's house. He still had no idea what became of the fallen half-breed angel, Gabriel. He knew he would fight the urge to do more than punch him, or her again if their paths ever crossed again. He didn't know what gender the being was anyway, or what sex the being would take as a human. It made him sneer to think of the confusion that could cause in the creature. Now he or she would have to find salvation, or reject it just like the rest of the mortals who walked the earth.

It wasn't long before they arrived at Angela's apartment, located at a better part of town than the place he called home. It wasn't a complete disaster, but it was odd as it was on top of a bowling alley, and with such had a strange floor plan. Plenty long, but not quite wide enough to be comfortable for too much company. Not that he had much besides Chas, the late Beeman or an odd old friend. Chas parked the cab, and they proceeded to the front door. Chas noted the clean modern look of the hallways. The sun hung just low enough in the sky for the windows to catch the full brightness of its rays.

"Kind of swanky, huh boss?" he remarked between bites of his red licorice.

"Yes, Chas, it's nice." John said, furrowing his eyebrows at the fact the kid hadn't stopped eating the candy since they left. As if on cue Chas furrowed his brow right back.

"It's only my second piece John."

"Sure it is kid." John replied as he led Chas to Angela's front door. To his surprise Chas, didn't have any more quips to shoot back at him. What had happened to himat Ariela's? John shook his head, and gave Angela's door a few quick raps. They waited a few seconds, and heard a chair slide across the floor, and footsteps drawing near. A rather warm, and weary looking Angela opened the door.

"Hey, John, Chas. Please come in, it's boiling out there." Angela said, stepping outof the way, so they could walk past her. She then followed them in. This was going to be the hard part. She knew they came to check in on her, and without a doubt address the issue of Isabel's funeral. It didn't help that she could already feel some feeling of hope for herself and John. She could feel her heart pulling her closer to him, and her mind began to scream at her. She had followed her heart before, and it had deceived her. Was this the same old song, and dance? Fear began to creep into her mind, and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore her hearts' nagging attraction. There were more serious matters to be thinking about than a potential romantic relationship. "Come on, and sit down, you two." Angela said, absentmindedly. She could feel herself just going through the motions. Next she asked them if they wanted anything to drink. "I think you need one more than us." Chas said, standing up, looking around for the kitchen. "Chas, you don't…" Angela, tried to say in protest, before she was interrupted.

"No offense Angie, can I call you that? But you look like you're about to fall over."'Chas said, finally locating the kitchen, and quickly retrieved a glass of water for her, before she could protest again. She could only nod at the question he asked. Anyone who helped save her life could call her "Angie" if they wanted.

"I would have but the kid beat me to it." John said, suddenly feeling like he wasforgetting his manners. He was the one who should be making sure she was OK. So he made sure that Chas received a hard look when he sat down again. Angelasaw this, and chuckled despite herself.

"Play nice boys." she said, a small smile creeping up on her lips. She took a longswig of the water, and realized she hadn't really eaten anything either, as the hollow feeling in her stomach informed her.

"Hey kid, since you're so good at serving "Angie", make her something to eat." John said, as he rose to guide Angela to her seat. He knew how in the wake of several traumatic events how dazed one could be, forgetting to eat, and take care of one self. Chas gave John a look, but rose anyway, and handed Angela a piece of candy, saying it was "good for the blood sugar". "So have you figured out anything about the…burial of Isabel?" John asked pausing slightly at the word "burial". He knew it was insensitive to be so blunt, but it needed to be asked.

Angela shook her head, and cursed under her breath. "No, I really don't know what to do if the Bishop thinks she committed suicide." Angela said, rubbing her temples, feeling the start of a hunger headache coming on. It didn't help that Chas was trying to find his way around her kitchen without asking, so the room was filled with the noise of cabinet doors, plates, silverware, and random containers. At this she remembered the licorice whip in her hand, and took a small bite, but felt awfully ridiculous for doing so.

"We actually might have the answer." John said softly, looking over at Chas, who was already digging in his pants pocket for the number Ariela had given him. He retrieved it, and came bearing a sandwich, laying both on the end table beside Angela. "It's to a priest Ariela knows that might perform a Catholic funeral for Isabel. She said he was a part of some charismatic sect, which would be able to do the funeral with, or _without_ approval of the Bishop."

Angela's eyes brightened with a glimmer of hope, and a flash of confusion. She wasn't aware there were any sects in LA that didn't acknowledge the authority of an overseeing bishop. She inwardly prayed they weren't some type of weird cult. She then inwardly hit herself for thinking that Ariela would connect her to a cult leader. The girl had unusual connections but it didn't make her part of a cult.

"Well, let's call him." Angela said, snatching up the number from the table, leaning forward to stand. John grasped her arm. Angela looked at him curiously.

"Eat first. I don't want Chas and I to have to carry you out of here if you faint." John said, his eyes flashing with surprising concern. Angela sighed. It wasn't like she had been hours without eating before, but she knew he was right. So she picked up the sandwich, and the phone number; if he thought she would faint without eating, she would do both at once

Over the next few minutes Chas, and John watched as Angela multi-tasked eating her sandwich standing up, and speaking to who they guessed by her tone was the priest's secretary. She did with a ease that said she had done this before, many times even. She was intrepid, John had to give her that. He secretly wondered how long it would take her to crash, and let the sorrow take over. Regardless of Isabel's place of eternity, Angela's twin was still gone from this earth. She would fight the urge to call her, or visit her at Ravenscar, or call her parents to check up on her. She would never hear her speak, laugh, or cry again on this side of eternity. Maybe it was for the best as the girl's tortured soul, to be with who Angela called "the only person she ever believed loved her"; God. It figured that a girl so engrossed into the occult would cling to her faith so much. Maybe in her state of mind, she thought it was all one and the same. John knew from experience, that it was a dangerous dance. The friendly spirits, and consorts could turn at any time, making one's life a living hell, and turning a gift quickly into a curse. They smiled and laughed at first offering their knowledge, only to end up whispering bittersweet lies in your eyes, and ended up snarling over your very soul. It was those voices that drove the girl to take her own life. He knew those voices, those that said he would be better off dead, then maybe then the voices would stop. It ended up being just the opposite, they never stopped once the heartbeat faltered, and the last breath escaped the lips. John shook his head to remove the memory, and looked back to Angela, who was still on the phone. He listened as her voice cracked telling of Isabel's situation.

"Yes, Father, she did believe in our Lord." she answered. "and yes, she was baptized, and dedicated. She just faltered in her last days. I don't believe that to be grounds to deny her a proper Catholic funeral." she paused, and appeared to be listening. When her eyes grew wide John stood up and stood by her, as he anxious himself to hear the verdict. Angela's brown eyes pooled with water, and darted to him, and then back into space. "Really, Father, you'll do it?"

"Yes, child. I don't see why I shouldn't." John could hear the priest say. He breathed out a sigh of relief himself, and squeezed Angela's shoulder.

"Thank you Father Robert, you really have no idea what it will mean to my family, and I." Angela replied, swallowing back the growing lump in her throat.

They said their goodbyes, and agreed to call one another later to solidify the arrangements, once a funeral home was found. From what the secretary said, the church had their own small Catholic cemetery that if the Father allowed, she was free to use for Isabel's grave. It seemed almost too good to be true. Apparently, Father Robert and his congregation followed a doctrine that was less liturgical and more contemporary in nature. They didn't accept earthly clergy as the final authority in who should be given a proper burial. To them, Isabel still belonged to the Lord. That was certainly something she could agree with. Angela set the phone back on its stand, and leaned against the wall beside it, feeling the lump in her throat growing again. A weight seemed to lifted from her shoulders. She felt weak, but as soon as her head slumped forward, John's strong chest was there to support her. She breathed in and smelled an odd mix of soap, mint, and some other earthy scent men tended to carry with them. It comforted her, as she felt the sorrow in her well, up and spill over in her eyes, and down her cheeks. Life from now on was never going to be same, with John holding her, and a young man who gently put on his hand on her shoulder. She looked over to see Chas whispering something, praying she guessed, and she reached up to squeeze his hand. He was a good cab boy, and was an even better ally. If it wasn't for him she wouldn't be alive, and she would always be grateful for it. He must know more than she about the place Isabel now walked in. She secretly wondered if her tears and questions made her weaker, or stronger. She pushed the thoughts away as John's hands made their way to the back of her head, where they awkwardly stroked her hair. For now she wanted to soak up the sweet parts of her bittersweet life.

* * *

It was the morning of the funeral, when Angela sat beside John, dressed appropriately for a funeral, as his clothes usually looked as if he had just come from one. She smiled to herself at the thought of it. She knew she may not be able to hold up after the wake, and the burial. The last day or so had been a whirlwind, she knew something had to give sooner or later. She surveyed the skies from her dashboard, and saw dark clouds hovering over where they were headed.

"I sure hope it doesn't rain." Angela thought aloud. John looked over and caressed her shoulder.

"Whatever happens I'm sure it'll be ok." John said, with a small smile. He was uncomfortable with wakes, and funerals. He had been at far too many of them. His parents, and too many friends to count. It seemed that many who hung around him ended up dead. It wasn't a trend he ever looked forward to repeating. He had lost two friends in the last three days, and almost lost two more. He couldn't help but wonder why Father Hennessy, and Beeman died, while Angela and Chas lived. He knew Chas helped in Angela's case, and Ariela helped in Chas's case, but it didn't have to be the case. They all could have made it, had the dark forces not been so bent on their demise. Whoever said demons can't hurt you would be surely be scorned. The Devil was real, demons were real, as well as God, Jesus, and angels. God's plan was real, and he had grown past thinking God was just a "kid with an ant farm", but it didn't mean he liked the way the plan unfolded itself. He snapped out of his thoughts, when Angela lightly brushed his arm with hers, as she switched gears. Their eyes met for a moment, and he saw her smile slightly. He couldn't help but smile back. He was here for her, and no one else. They shared a secret understanding, and that wasn't something that he could sever, not yet. They pulled into the drive of the funeral home, and saw that Ariela's car was there before them. Angela scoffed, and turned off the engine. She only knew the girl for a day or so. It didn't mean she had to help set up. Before she could linger much on those thoughts she heard a girl's voice."Angela!" she heard her say. She turned to met her voice, as Ariela peered through her SUV's windows.

"My condolences. I'm sorry I'm here so early, but my boss wanted me to deliver something after church, and I left early because I didn't know if I'd get lost, or caught in traffic on the way here."

Angela gave a sad chuckle, and nodded, feeling suddenly wrong for thinking the girl was trying to overstep her bounds. She was even dressed appropriately in a plain black dress that came down to just above her knees, with her hair pulled back into a slick ponytail.

"How long have you been here?" Angela asked, unbuckling herself, and stepping out of the car.

"About five minutes, why?" Ariela asked.

"You really didn't have to be here before the wake started, is what Angela is too kind to say." John suddenly said, as he made his way from the car.

A steady breeze began to stir the leaves in the trees, and made something metal creak, and cry, adding to the sad feeling in the air. It didn't help that the dark clouds from earlier were creeping up on them.

"Wow, someone's a little _protective _today." Ariela remarked, with a grin. "I wouldn't have shown up so early if I wasn't afraid of being too late to set these up." She then pointed and John saw a large arrangement of white Calla, and Easter lilies, the "things" her boss wanted her to deliver he guessed. They too fluttered in the wind, but held fast to their arrangement.

"Is Chas with you?" Angela asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Oh, no. His boss or someone called him wanting him to fill out some insurance form, on a cab he drove, that apparently got a huge mirror dropped on top of it." Ariela said with a raised eyebrow. She couldn't help but think there was more to the story than Chas let on. John chuckled, and shook his head. Ariela didn't miss a beat. "Ah, I'm guessing the mirror had something to do with you and Chas then?" Ariela asked, as she picked up the arrangement. When she began to have trouble lifting it, John quickly strode over and grasped the other side before it fell out of her grasp. She thanked him and they worked to lift it together.

"Maybe, maybe not." John replied. "Is Chas in trouble?"

"Maybe, but Chas can handle it. If he has to pay a fee or appear in court he will." Ariela replied. They didn't say much as they moved the arrangement, from the outside to the interior of the funeral home, with Angela following behind.

The funeral home was quaint, with plush carpet, and redwood walls. The colors were mostly warm but still did not disturb the somber mood in the place. On the walls hung pictures of local scenery and those who had run the home before. It was a grim business, but one the world would be rid of. It wasn't long after they entered that a slim middle aged woman in glasses.

"Hello. Are you setting up for the Dodson…" she said, curiously before she laid eyes on Angela, and froze. Angela sighed heavily, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm not her. I'm Angela, Isabel's Dodson's _twin_." Angela said, once again dealing with the constant mix-up between her and Isabel. While they looked alike the main difference in their personality was sensitivity Isabel possessed. In death no one saw that except those who knew her.

"Oh, yes, I forgot Isabel was a twin. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." the woman said, shaking her head in realization. Angela waved her concern away, and the woman lead the group to the room where Isabel's wake would be held in a hour. To Angela's surprise flowers and cards lined one side of the room. More than she expected for a woman who lived with her parents, and then died while in the care of a psych ward. Various flowers adding a touch of color to the room, were still a stark reminder of her loss. Angela proceeded slowly into the room, while John and Ariela quietly set up the flowered display they carried. She inwardly braced herself for what she would see at the far end of the room, the body of Isabel, laying in the casket she had chosen for her. She jumped slightly when she saw it. It was finally happening, it was really happening. She decided to keep things simple, as Isabel wouldn't have wanted a huge fuss over something that would be buried. Angela stopped in front of the casket, and slowly peered over at Isabel. The mortician had done a fine job at making her face less pale, and gaunt, putting some color back into her. Her dark hair was neat, and washed, spread out like a curtain underneath her head. She was dressed in a navy blue suit that Angela had chosen for its color. The color of revelation, and the color of those who mourned. It just seemed to fit. She then lifted up a silent prayer of thanksgiving despite the sorrow that welled up in her heart, that mixed with the hope that Isabel really did dwell in a place kinder than this world, and that she would indeed one day see her again.

An hour later, Angela's parents arrived to lend their support in the receiving line. They were quiet most of the time, in a reverent way, but made sure Angela knew they approved of the arrangements so far. She wouldn't have cared much if they hadn't. Father Robert arrived soon to give Isabel's eulogy, and offer some more support to her. John also stayed close to her side, and she was grateful to have him. The few family they had left and a few friends soon arrived, including a late but dapper looking Chas, and Ariela's parents. Friends, family, doctors, nurses, and a cab boy all gave their last respects to Isabel. Angela couldn't help but smile sadly when she saw young Chas make the sign of the cross and kneel down to pray with Ariela beside him.

The eulogy went off without a hitch, but with more than a few tears shed by those in attendance. By the time it was Angela's turn to say a few words, a lump grew in her throat to the point where she didn't know if she would be able to speak. The grief was really catching up with her. She pleaded towards heaven to give her strength, and she looked around the room, at those who had been so supportive, and tried to soak up as much strength as she could from them. She approached the podium, acting on the faith that she would be able to speak once she got there. Curious and sorrow laced faces watched her as Angela pulled out some notes, and old photos from her purse. She took a deep breath, and spoke.

"Hello everyone. I know Isabel's death perhaps came as a shock to some, as she was so young, with many years ahead of her. Still, she was ill, and unfortunately lost her battle in her own mind. I don't think though, that this tragedy should overshadow the woman she was. She was flawed, and some would say troubled, but I've never seen anyone in my life that had held so fast to faith as my sister had. Through all her trails, she always believe that God, Jehovah, Jesus Christ, was the only one that really truly loved her. I believe that no matter what one might say about doctrine, I believe without a doubt that Isabel is in God's arms now. He was her child, no matter how flawed she was, no matter how deep her sorrow." Angela said, feeling a sense of pride rise up in her words. She then began to leaf through the pictures she had in her hands. More for her own memories than anyone else's. "I believe Christ is near to the broken-hearted, and those who suffer. He is truly among us today, on this dreary day. May we always keep Isabel and the faith she had in our hearts as we go about our days. She would have liked that." Angela stopped, and swallowed a lump in her throat. She scanned the crowds faces, again and stopped when she met John's gaze, at the front of the room. His eyes softened, and he gave her a sad, supportive smile. She gave him a small one back, and continued. "Thank you for being here, and God bless you." she finally croaked out, as a dignified tear finally streamed down her cheek. She said it to them, she said it to him, and to the one she knew was there, but who she couldn't see.

From there the gathering all made their way to their cars, adorned with flags, and followed the police transports, and the hearse to the Father Robert's cemetery. They wound their way through streets, and arrived at the heavily wooded cemetery. The clouds followed them still, and the wind picked up as they unloaded the casket from the hearse. John, Angela's father, Russell, and Chas and a few other young men all helped carry it out place it on the pulleys where it would be lowered into the ground. The rites were performed in Catholic fashion by Father Robert, as the air grew colder around them. Chas shivered against the sudden cold, and looked over at Ariela who did the same. Her father soon placed took off his jacket and placed in around her. Chas was slightly embarrassed that he didn't offer first, but it wasn't his place. It wasn't the time. Again it was cold, and the air smelled heavy with rain. Like chlorine in pool water. As Father Robert finished the rites, he waved over to Mr. Levy, and Ariela. Everyone around them was surprised, until they saw Ariela pick up a violin and begin to play the hymn, "It is well with my soul". The mournful, but hopeful strains flowed through the air, making some pray, and others cry. When she was finished, her father began to chant melodically in Hebrew, and Ariela joined in in English after each line.

It translated to, "The L-RD bless thee, and keep thee: The L-RD make his face shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee: The L-RD lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace."

The words were haunting and seemed to hang in the air long after they had ceased. Several in the crowd were openly weeping, and others just stared, trying to take in what they heard.

The gatherers were then allowed to approach the casket, and leave mementos, and flowers. Ariela and her family left polished stones, their adaptation of the Jewish tradition of leaves stones at graves instead of flowers.

At last, Isabel's body was lowered into the ground. As everyone was beginning to leave, and Angela lingered, the rain that had been held back in the clouds for so long began to fall. Softly at first, but then harder. Those who remained clamored to find umbrellas. John fortunately found one in Angela's car, and was able to shelter her before she let herself be soaked through. She stood in her place staring, praying, and holding back her tears.

"Come on Angie." John growled slightly, more at the rain, than her. He grasped her arm, and pulled her towards the waiting SUV. Before he was successful, Angela suddenly broke free, and ran. Ran towards, Ariela, and Chas who were walking away towards their cars. Rain soaked through her hair, and clothes, but she didn't care. She was going to send these moments with the ones who made this bittersweet moment as sweet as it could be.

"Ariela, Chas!" she called out above the din of the rain. They turned at her voice, and quickly strode towards her concerned that her choice to remain in the rain would make her ill. She reached them, and grasped their arms.

"Angela, what's wrong?" Ariela yelled over the rain. Angela said nothing, but pulled them harder, until they finally stopped resisting her. Her grief was evident, and all their resolves to fight the current wave of sorrow was giving way. She pulled them into her SUV with her, where John was waiting.

They all looked at each other as they sat together, Angela, Chas, and Ariela; all pushed together in the back seat. They gazed at each other briefly before Angela's attempt to choke back a sob failed, she let out a cry. A cry expressing her pain, and joy in that Isabel got the tribute she deserved, and at the prevailing providence of the situation. It wasn't long before Ariela joined her, and the two were leaning on each other. Chas and John, leaned forward, touched their shoulders. Chas couldn't help but swallow a lump in his throat as well, as he watched them. When Angela's sobs started to become particularly loud, it scared him. "Angela," Ariela eventually said softly, as she rested her head on the woman's shoulders. Angela raised her slightly. "No Angela, just listen." Ariela cooed like a sister would. It made Angela's throat tighten again, and unleashed a new folly of tears down her pale cheeks. "This rain, it's like a sign. Like my grandma Levy used to say, 'when you cry because of hurt, don't' think you're not heard, because in heaven, angels cry with you.' I never thought that might be true until I felt that rain." Ariela said, not making an effort to wipe away her tears.

"Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?" John said calmly from the front seat. Angela turned her head, which was still rested on Ariela's shoulder, and looked up at John, and smiled. Their eyes were weary, and red lined, but they didn't really care. Their tears mingled with the rain water, and for a while they were one. For strange reason as they sat there, Ariela looked out the side window at the sky. For some reason she thought it was would be the last time in a long time they would see it rain. They all would soon find out.


	6. Chapter 6 Exhibition

Disclaimer statement:

Ok, first off let me say that I own NOTHING. "Constantine" and the "Hellblazer" comic belong to their respective companies, and owners. I do not know any of the actors, writers or crew of these works. I am making no money off of this whatsoever.

Authors note: This story is highly spiritual, so if you don't like stories of this nature please don't read this one. Please give constructive criticism, and don't knock a story before reading it. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the story!

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Sorry for the wait guys, but you can't rush these things. Plus, the summer's been crazy.

This Chapter is a bridge, to the darker and more tense content. Enjoy and review!

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Chapter Six: Exhibition 

The rain was still coming down hard as Angela placed yet another casserole into her freezer. For some reason everyone who stopped by her apartment in the past few hours thought she was unable to cook, and she had received five different dishes. The cold air rushing past her when she shut the door made her shiver. It was just a few hours after her breakdown with John, Chas and Ariela and her heart still held a dull ache. She knew the grief would come in waves, but she feared the intensity that they may crash upon her. Grief was such a inconvenient emotion, stealing away energy and making one ponder the meaning of life, and death. Death made everyone look at her differently, and talk to her differently. Even their greetings were different, always having a slant of pity. She knew they wanted to be respectful of her loss, but she didn't see the point in mourning like she had no hope, and like she would never see Isabel again. It was that, she thought that they didn't know. Death to everyone else seemed so final, but it was really only the beginning. Only a select few in her midst knew the truth, and they were not present. Chas and Ariela left soon after their breakdown in her car, and John had stuck around long enough to walk her to her door, and said he'd call her soon. It didn't even dawn on her that he may of wanted to come inside, and mentally kicked herself for being so cloudy in her thinking. Then again, it may have been the best thing. She knew she was vulnerable, and was more prone to act hastily. She knew John wanted to be with her, but she wasn't ready for the physical consequence of following through with her emotions. John wasn't a "flowers type of guy" and she guessed most of his romantic encounters had been sordid, and hasty, judging from his tough often rude exterior. She wasn't sure what he would do if he really did love her, how weak his defenses would be, or how weak hers' were. To take things too fast would be just as bad, if not worse than not recognizing their feelings.

On these thoughts she gazed out her large windows that overlooked the busy street below. The rain was falling steadily falling in waves against her windowpanes. For some strange reason the rain felt somewhat profound, and precious, like it would evaporate too soon, and be away for too long. There was something cleansing about rain that washed away some filthiness she felt around her. In the city, in the people, in situations. Her eyes glanced up the clouds that we almost black hovering over the city like a dark blanket. Part of her spirit said that something was about to happen, for good or bad, and she prayed it was for good.

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Meanwhile, Chas made his way home from Ariela's as the rain pelted his car. He had spent a hour or so with her family, not doing too much, but just enjoying each other's company, and answering some of Ariela's nagging questions about the past two years. Then, a sudden flash of light made him jump in his seat. He looked around, and was relieved to hear the grumble of thunder a few moments afterward. He took a deep breath and let it out. He guessed part of him didn't really think he was safe quite yet. He whispered a prayer of protection under his breath that Ariela had taught him an hour ago. She knew he was scared of what might happen given all that _almost _happened. He knew almost didn't count, but his human nature still made him afraid of danger, afraid of pain, afraid of loss. He wasn't so scared of death, at least when it concerned his own life. Ariela encouraged him by saying "Think how concerned _God _is about the things that worry you. His plans for us are good, and even when difficult things happen He can use them for our good. What the devil wanted to use for evil, God can use for our good." Even Constantine admitted to him after the funeral that God actually did have a plan, and he had to die, twice, just to figure it out. He didn't quite let on that the plan was good, but admitted there had to be some sort of order. Ariela's view was more optimistic than the one John held, and he prayed it was the one that would be proven true. He knew one thing, if he was living, and breathing there must be a good reason for it.

He drove on through the rain until he reached his small apartment that he shared with his mother. She would be home now, and hopefully not too tired to talk to him. He had a few things to resolve, and discuss with her, and Ariela had encouraged him to review his mounting literature, and get rid of whatever he thought was now unsuitable. He had a feeling she didn't just mean occult literature, and his cheeks burned to think of it. Ariela believed in him, but she knew he was fallible and flawed. Just thinking about what he used to look at suddenly made his stomach turn, and he wanted to make it stop. As soon as he set his mind to getting rid of what he had done before, something rose in him, a resistance, a fighting feeling against it. A familiar and annoying wrestling within himself against doing what he knew he must. The desires that raged inside of him didn't have to be stifled but only re-directed, but still it was a battle to believe it. Chas parked the car, and made his way to the apartment, bracing himself for questions, and the inevitable confused looks from his mother. He made his way quickly up the stairs, until he reached the door, unlocked it, and entered. He crept in quietly, and made sure his keys didn't jingle too loud, as to disturb his mother if she was asleep.

Meanwhile, the creaking of the front door made Helen stir in her bed, where she sat flipping through one of the books Chas had in his room. Her eyes looked up from the book, and welcomed the relief from its words that disturbed her. She stood, and headed out the room, and soon saw her son, and jumped. "Chas! Oh you scared me!" Helen exclaimed, smiling. Even if he scared her, she was still glad to see her son. He looked him over, as he was still wearing his black suit, for the funeral he attended earlier that day. He looked slightly damp, but it didn't surprise her given the way it had been raining all day.

"Hey, mom," Chas said, shifted his feet nervously.

"So how'd the service go?" Helen asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Good." Chas said with a sad smile. "Wanna hear about it?" he asked, shifting his feet again. His mother nodded silently, and pointed to their sofa as another roll of thunder sounded. Chas knew that they had much more to talk about than a funeral service, but it was a start. It was time to discuss, time to share, and time to tie up loose ends. Not everything would change all at once, and Chas felt as if he was on display, exposed to opinion and maybe even criticism, but it had to happen.

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"Well?" Ariela's mom Sharon asked, as she got herself ready for bed. It was a nightly routine for her mother to have some quality time before they both went to sleep. Ariela could be sensitive, which could lead her to times of extreme moods. She put on a brave face most of the time, and handled herself well with some pressures of life, but still could flounder with matters of the heart. Sharon knew her daughter must have conflicting emotions about the return of Chas and all the bizarre happens of the last few days. Moreover, she sensed the tension when they were together. She wanted to know what her daughter thought about her friend now, and help her navigate her restless thoughts, and feelings.

"Well, what?" Ariela asked as she pulled back the covers of her bed.

"What do you feel about Chas suddenly turning up?" her mother asked.

"Well I know it wasn't an accident. God gave me a dream, remember?"

"Yeah I do, but I also know how you are."

"Oh, come on, what does that mean?" Ariela said as she quickly slid herself under the covers.

"You're dodging my question. I asked how you _felt _about him _being around _now, not whether you thought it was an accident." Ariela sighed and laid her head suddenly on her pillow.

"Ok, I enjoy him being around," she admitted. "But he scares me sometimes."

"Really? He seems pretty safe to me." Sharon said patting her daughter on the leg as she sat in the bed next to her.

"Well my heart sure doesn't feel safe." Ariela murmured absentmindedly. She wasn't even aware that she had even spoken the words until she felt her mother's gaze on her, and saw her expression. Ariela groaned, and pulled her blue covers over her head. "Mom, I feel so strange around him, like he's unlocking something, or he's causing something to happen." she explained while her voice was slightly muffled under the covers. She then pulled them off her head, and turned to return her mother's gaze.

"Is that _something _making you feel tempted, Air?" she asked, concerned but not scared by her daughter's slight confession. She knew the conflict that shone in her daughter's eyes whenever he was around. The way her eyes sparkled when he made her laugh and the way, she looked when he was breaking down her defenses without even trying. Ariela snickered at her mother's use of the word "tempted".

"Oh, wow, mom it's not like he's been coming on to me left and right. He'd never do that, and you know that." Ariela said, trying to convince herself that he would be incapable of asking to her to do what he knew she had her heart set against. It was something he had always respected her for, and informed any interested male about, to her embarrassment. She thought he did so to weed out any men with wrong intentions, but she could very well tell an unsuitable man off by herself. She had been doing it since she hit puberty, and her thin body took on more curvy proportions. Only one man in her life would claim her body, and that would be whomever she chose to wed. It was a decision she made long ago, by her own choice, and she looked forward to the day when all her waiting and tension would pay off. While she sometimes cursed the tension in herself, she thought of it as a reminder of why she why she chose to remain patient. If there was one thing she knew, it was that her future husband would never be disappointed in her as far as passion was concerned. A sudden, unbidden thought of Chas and herself in such a situation made her face redden and her face grow hot. She pushed the thought away, and looked back at her mother, who was still watching her.

"I'm guessing you're answer to my question is a _strong _maybe." her mother teased. Ariela's face reddened again and she shot her mother a sad look. "It will be ok, Air, just keep your eyes on Him. You know how to say 'no', and he cares about you enough to protect you."

"Mom, please, I not saying I'm in love with him." Ariela said sitting up to further her point. "What's there to fall in love with a young cabby anyway?"

"Hey, don't be that way!" the older blonde-haired woman said, letting her blue eyes indicate that she was not happy. "I never raised you to judge a person by how much money they made…"

"It's not about that mom!" Ariela cried. "It's about the fact that it would just never work." It wasn't just about money. It wasn't about social class. It was about him just taking on a journey she had undertaken at a younger age; her journey in her faith. Not as a religion, but as a real, living, breathing relationship that changed her. He had a long way to go in that respect, and she didn't want to feel like he was constantly playing catch-up with her. The scriptures told her a man must be the priest of the household, and she didn't know if Chas was one who could fulfill that. Could he stay strong in the trials of life, and lead his family through? Could he encourage her when her faith was weak? She didn't know. The thought brought sadness crashing down on her like a cold ocean wave. When her mother inquired, she answered with a few words, and trialed off, her throat tightening. Her mother then decided it wasn't right to press her anymore but to be there with her. When she placed a hand on her daughter's, a small cry emerged from her. Ariela reached to over her mouth with her hands, and tried desperately to make the lump in her throat go away, but it didn't. A sob emerged from her so violently it scared both her and her mother. It wasn't long before her mother had wrapped her arms around her, and she allowed the tears that stung her eyes to spill down her cheeks. Her heart was screaming out inside her. _God, why does this hurt so much? Why do I feel so drawn to him, just to have my hopes dashed? Take it away, I don't want it anymore! _

The surge of emotions took her off guard, and she didn't like feeling out of control.

After a few minutes of her mother, holding her, her mother lifted her chin with her hand. Her mother's blue eyes seemed to bore into her. Ariela always thought she looked like a prophetess when she looked at her so intently. She knew she should listen to whatever she had to say, for it was not just her mother, but Jehovah speaking.

"Don't give up on him, Ariela. Don't push him away.," her mother said, as Ariela's tear lined hazel eyes looked back into her blue ones. "He has a part to play in your life still. Don't limit him, and God belittle him because you think he is weak right now. Gulliver has awoken, and he will shake off his captors, and be victorious."

Ariela took a deep breath then, and tried to take in her words, and believe them. Her mother wiped the trail the tears left on her daughter's face, and embraced her again.

"The only one who can make this difficult is you. Don't do something you'll regret later." her mother advised before leaving Ariela alone in her room.

So this was it, she had feelings for a cabby, a man two years her junior. She glanced over at her bedroom window, and saw that the rain was still coming down in streams down her windowpane. Lesser than before, and a sudden flash of lighting followed by a crash of thunder made her jump, only adding to her tension. She just as quickly pushed the thought away as she heard her father pray in Hebrew throughout the apartment, something he did lightly. The melody of his voice reminded her that while she felt in turmoil that somehow, someway her faith would guide her through anything. However, her conflicted thoughts and emotions that hung over her like the smog in the city.

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It was raining again, in the city John mused as he took his last sip of his favorite whiskey. It wasn't so much that he had sorrows to drown, but thoughts to stop from swirling. They weren't all bad, and the thought of an intrepid cop with a beautiful face, creamy skin, and green eyes made his lips turn up in a smile. When he thought of her, it suddenly didn't matter that he sat in a creaky, beat up chair, in a room where the paint was chipping off the walls. All he could think of was how he could be closer to her, and not loose his head. His attraction was more than the heated, savage attraction that the random wanton women he sometimes chose to bed. It felt less like the purrs and hisses of Ellie, someone who would set his body on fire, and wound all in the span of several moments. She had never really loved him, but enjoyed immensely when he was feeling self-destructive. Her cat-like eyes seemed to devour him before she ever reached out to touch him, before their lips ever met. No, Angela was different; her desire was not looking for his slow, painful destruction, but his preservation. He could tell Angela cared somehow for him, in all his callousness, and pride. She awakened the long hidden, dry parts of him that longed to be tender, and longed to feel somewhat happy. At that thought, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. What would it even feel like to be happy, or to love someone, really love him or her? Did he even really know what love was? For all he knew after a rush of passion, his infatuation would be in danger of cooling. He couldn't afford to rush in. Maybe being patient, and letting her quiet strength guide him, could temper his eagerness.

He then stood, walked slowly into this bedroom, and changed into his sleeping ware; which was his underwear, slid beneath the sheets, it wasn't long before the whiskey, the sound of rain outside his window made his eyes heavy, and he wondered whether he should say a prayer. He didn't care too much for himself now, but yet again, he was doing more for himself than he had in a long time. Who knew that in giving away his energy and time to others he would help himself? After a few moments of thought, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Uhh, I know I'm new to this and all, but please take care of Angie…and Chas…and the Blondie he likes so much…" and his voice trailed off as sleep finally overtook him. He saw colors behind his eyelids, and he suddenly found himself in a field, with long golden grass that swayed in the wind. He looked down and saw himself in his normal wear, save the jacket he usually wore, clad in a white dress shirt, and black slacks. The wind stirred his hair, and he looked around, his eyes darting over the rolling hills of grass before him. Everything seemed at peace, and he heard laughter on the wind. He turned towards the sound, and saw figures in the distance. He squinted against the sun's bright golden rays and moved forward towards the figures that stood a good two hundred feet away. He could make out a young woman, clad in a flowing white dress that moved when the wind caught it. John came closer, and could see that it was Ariela, and saw a figure lay down in the grass, close to where she stood. All he could make out was the black and white newsboy cap that Chas always sported, resting in a young man's hand.

"Chas!" he called and the man sat up and looked in the direction of the voice.

"Hey, John!" the voice said, and indeed it was Chas. His voice seemed to be faint, like an echo in a long, empty hallway. He looked happier than he had ever seen him, and more serious. Ariela snapped out of her joyous mood then and came to stand beside Chas, and looked at John with a furrowed brow. John shot her a look back, and she pointed to the ground, and a few steps ahead of him there was a deep gorge in the land. He examined it, and found that it was too far for him to jump, and too steep for him to climb down into, and then out of. He looked around for a bridge, or an outcropping on which he could jump and reach the other side, but found none. He didn't know why he wanted to be with them so badly, until he heard something move close to him. Startled, he jumped to the side, and he heard someone laugh. It was a woman with dark hair, lined with red highlights, and green eyes. Angela, smiling and extending her hand to him. She wore a casual white shirt, and jeans that gently hugged her figure. She enticed a smile from his lips, and he took her hand.

"Now, follow me, and do exactly as I tell you." she instructed, as she stood straighter and seemed to steeling herself. She was leading him directly towards the edge of the ravine, and he hesitated and pulled back. She turned her head towards him, and pointed to a slope not far away from where they stood. It looked steep and rough, but Angela looked sure that they could walk down the small path. Her confidence made him follow her, but he couldn't help but feel like someone, or something was watching him. He glanced behind, and he could swear he saw a form in the grass, not a human form, but more feline in appearance.

"What the….Angela?" he said pulling her arm to get her to look. She looked only briefly. She laughed, and spoke again.

"It's ok John, keep walking." she said confidently. John wondered if she was going mad, but followed her anyway, and when they reached the top of the slope, she spoke again. "Don't be moved by what you see." Angela said, before letting go of his hand, and walking ahead of him. "Just follow me, and do what I do." What John saw was a valley and could smell smoke, and saw it rising from the middle of it. A cold wave of fear swept over him that the valley was hell, or someplace like it. Why would Angela be leading him there? She had instructed him to be unmoved by what he saw, but it was easier said than done.

He took a deep breath and followed carefully behind Angela, mimicking her every step and movement as she kept her balance on the narrow path. He could smell the smoke stronger now and could see more clearly what lay at the bottom of the valley, complete and utter destruction.

He saw burning buildings, charred trees, and fire liking up the side of the hill, but never really scaling it. He thought he could hear voices, or sirens wailing in the valley. It wasn't quite hell, but close enough to make him want to turn back. He had been in places like that for too long, but Angela was confident and kept walking. Not as if in a trance, but as one determined to lead him to the other side unscathed. They then reached what John thought was the end of the path leading to the other side, as he couldn't see any sign of it stretching further, all he could see was the smoke billowing towards the sky. Despite it's blackness it still wasn't dark enough to block out the sun, which was still strong enough to light the path in front of them.

He looked back where Angela stood waiting for his attention.

"I know it looks intimidating, but keep walking.," she said.

"Intimidating? Angela, there's nothing there. You'll fall into whatever the h*ll that is down there." he pleaded with her. He heard her sigh then.

"No, I won't. Just trust me." Angela said, turning to him suddenly, her composure somewhat lost in her tone. She either was crazy, or knew something he didn't. He watched as she extended her right leg in front of her, and leaned forward, letting herself fall forward. John's heart just about stopped and he reached for her, but before he could, her fall stopped. She now stood on a ledge camouflaged as what lay below. He let out a breath, and looked down at her. She walked a few paces ahead, and carefully turned to face him. He steeled himself, jumped down, and braced himself for the worst, but he didn't fall to his death. He simply landed in front of Angela, who had her arm outstretched in case he needed her help in steadying himself.

He looked at her and she simply smiled, and a sudden breeze stirred her hair, and her head snapped in the direction from which it came. He could feel her senses alight like a pulse of electricity.

"What is it?" John asked, feeling it was important to ask more questions. Angela just flashed him a sad smile, and gestured for him to follow her again. Again, he followed, mimicked her steps, and occasionally reached out to brush her shoulder, or shoot her a lingering glance. She simply smiled, and even shook her head, as if she was flattered but not too moved. Perhaps it wasn't the time or the place, as they walked the trail. He somehow forgot about the smoke rising, the ash falling and the terror below as he kept his eyes ahead on her. He just hoped she wasn't bringing him to his death. She made her steps carefully as if someone too was directing her. If she almost lost her balance, she would whisper something, and then regain her footing again.

It was a short while later, when they reached a grass-lined slope on which Angela pulled herself up. It wasn't long before John had also pulled himself onto the slope, and was almost running up it with Angela. He hoped that once he was at the top there would be nothing more to concern him. When they reached the top, he could see that Chas and Ariela were on the same plane, but not all seemed all well to him yet. He still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. When he heard a low growling noise, his hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and his mouth suddenly tasted of steel. His head turned in the direction of the noise, and he could see a beast stalking the group. It appeared to be a male lion, with a huge healthy mane, and held such a powerful bearing it made John want to move aside to give the creature room. "Look out!" he cried making an effort to warn his friends. They looked at him, but did not run away from the beast. He could see a lion clear as daylight, and they did the unthinkable, they stood still. John charged forward and grasped Angela's arm. "Do you not see him?"

"Yes, of course, I see him." Angela said, letting her gaze flit over to where the beast was, which was now closer, and closer to where Chas and Areila.

"So he's safe?" John asked, confused.

"No, John, not safe." Angela said solemnly. As she did, the beast charged towards Chas and Ariela. John yelled warning to them, and they stirred and ran towards him, and straight to where the beast was running. John yelled warnings again, but they didn't divert their paths. They looked almost ecstatic running, Ariela with her dress billowing behind her and Chas just a few steps ahead of her.

The lion's muscles rippled in its mighty shoulders, and John watched helplessly as it leapt and struck Chas, knocking him to the ground. He heard no scream or struggle, but he couldn't let the creature take him. He sprung forward to defend Chas in whatever way he could. He feared the worse, and it wasn't but a few moments before he saw Chas, vacant eyed, but smiling, gone. His throat was ripped open and blood flowing slowly from the wound. John's eyes burned with angry, hot tears but he turned his attention in trying to protect Ariela. He looked up, and saw Ariela, running towards the animal, with her arms extended as if to welcome it. _What the hell is she doing, stupid girl!? _John thought. It leapt at her, its paws catching her at the shoulders, and pinning her to the ground with a loud thud. John went to leap on the animal when it turned and roared. Its eyes were boring into him, and he jumped. Sweat was pouring off John as he woke with a start. He quickly examined his surroundings, he was no longer in a field, and he saw he was in his own bed, and an old end table, along with the various things that made up his small bedroom. The sound of rain was faint on the windowsill. The power of the nightmare still hung on him like a shroud. He had no real idea what the lion lunging after Chas and Ariela could mean, or if the dream would have continued if he had never tried to save the girl. He never found out if she was dead, or alive, or whether the lion would have gone after Angela as well. Maybe it was a metaphor for something he would learn soon enough. He gasped a notebook and a pen from the drawer in his end table, and wrote down the dream for future reference. He could do some asking around in the morning, but more than finding out what it meant, he wanted to know that it could indeed be just a dream.

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Dun, dun, DUUUUN! So what does the dream mean? Yes, some things have come up, some big, some little, some implied. Tell me what you thought. I hope it was worth the wait. More tension and drama is coming I promise you!!


	7. Chapter 7 Seeds

Disclaimer: I OWN nothing. "Constantine" and "Hellblazer" belong to their respective owners. I own NOTHING, except my own characters (Ariela, Ron, Ariela's parents, Chas's mom ect.)  
Yay, a new chapter! I hope you like! Please R&R!!

** Chapter 7: Seeds**

The rain was beginning to slow as a disheveled brunette waited out the last lingering drops the clouds held under a store's awning. She was soaked through but too messed up to care. Her brown hair slowly dripped water onto the ground. Her mind was reeling a thousand miles per hour. The rain didn't just make her skin vulnerable but conjured up images she'd rather erase from her mind. The flash of a gleaming gold shotgun, and her fellow minions being obliterated to mere dust. The only reason she was spared was herhistory with the shooter.  
-------------------------((((((((((flashback)))))))))))-------------------------------------  
She had just finished mocking his attempt to destroy them, with water from the sprinkler system, and some bulky shotgun. John Constantine looked like death warmed up. It was no doubt his lung cancer taking him down. With his history it was no wonder why Lucifer wanted to come to earth to claim him once he died. Then a slight burning sensation ignited her skin. This was now no ordinary water, but blessed holy water. He was smarted than she thought.

"Holy water?" she breathed out shakily. John grinned and the others in the room began to scream. Their outer-skin if penetrated by holy water exposed what they really were, demons in disguise, making them vulnerable to attack. Some ducked for cover, but most of them began throwing themselves at John, trying to take them out. With a blast from the makeshift shotgun they dissolved into ashes and dust. She hid beneath a table, trembling in fear against the sounds of the shotgun, and the screams that reminded her of squealing pigs. Fear clenched in her gut, making it difficult to breathe She closed her eyes tightly to block out the little she could see. The sound only grew stronger, but less frequent. Finally a last shot rang out, and she heard another man's voice. He sounded young, probably the little apprentice that he mentioned following him around. Not that they talked much during their encounters. He came to her when he was entertaining the dark side of his psyche, and didn't want to bother with picking up some tramp from a local bar. They were never officially a couple in the formal sense of the word. They just had a largely physical relationship with a few drinks, smokes and conversations thrown in. His looks for her now had no desire, just contempt and a hint of sadness. She heard footsteps drawing near and a light shone on her face. It was a light atop John's shotgun.  
She turned to face him. So pitiful she must of looked to him. His former lover crouched down under a table, soaked through, cowering.  
"Just my luck. It should have been on you." she managed to say. She turned her head and waited for the shot. None came, and she heard his voice.  
"See you around, kid." he said. she peered up surprised, and a little disgusted. She dashed out from under the table, and strode out without a word to him or to his boy apprentice.  
-----------------------------(((((((((((((end flashback)))))))))))))-------------------------------------------  
She had been wandering around the coast for a few days. Ruminating, and trying to get up the courage to go on like she had before the incident at Ravenscar, and using the naiveté of a few young guys to survive. Part of her was sure Midnight had been involved with helping John get the equipment he needed to take most of his enemies out. There would be no going to his club now, and he claimed to be neutral in the struggle between darkness and light. Hypocrite.  
A short while later, she boarded the first bus, and grasped a hand grip, as sitting down where many other soaked people had didn't appeal to her. Her eyes flitted from side to side, stretching all her senses to see whether she should be concerned about the crowd. A few homeless people, and those who looked liked they had seen too long of days, but no one that sent her radar off. She must of looked strange to them, as some shot her dirty looks. She scoffed to herself, and shifted her weight over to accommodate for the bus turning. It was undignified work, but soon, if Miguel and Charlie were still up to their old tricks, she could work up a plan to get back at John Constantine.

The last bus dropped her off two blocks from their home, in an picturesque part of Glendale. She remembered their house being welcoming, whether she came to party or spend a laid back day with someone until it was time to make their way to Midnight's club, for a more stimulating night. To say the nights were wild would be an understatement. The real sinker was that no one in the area would even guess what Charlie and Miguel were capable of.

Soon she stood before their door. Her eyes briefly flitted over the romantic landscaping and she grinned to herself. She climbed the step and knocked on the door. She could hear commotion inside and chuckled, and wondered what she could have interrupted. The door opened and Charlie stood in the doorway. His eyes lit up at the sight of her. He was a tall man with pleasant facial features, and tousled blond hair in his early thirties. He wasn't so coifed as to be seen as unapproachable, but had a killer smile and clear blue eyes. Ellie had seen those two qualities be a lethal combination. Many a woman had fallen for their charm.  
"Ellie!" he exclaimed. He looked pleased to see her until his eyes noticed her rumpled appearance. As much as she tried to hide it, her eyes told him something was awry. His blue eyes studied her for a moment more. "What happened Ellie?"

"A little mishap." she tried to say as nonchalantly as she could. "You guys don't mind if I come in do you?" she said adding a slight purr to her voice.

"Ellie's here?!" she heard Miguel say from somewhere behind Charlie.  
Charlie was no slouch either but prided himself in being a bit of a chameleon, easily disguising himself and disappearing into any crowd, or situation.

"Of course we don't mind. Come on in." Charlie said, stepping aside to let her in. She strolled in her usual way, brimming with devil-may-care attitude. Miguel was busy placing a few dirty dishes in the sink at the back out of the house. Ellie chuckled and looked around and saw that the place was neat, yet lived in. Contemporary furniture, red tile floors decorated with rugs to give the floor warmth.

"You guys sure are whitewashed tombs, aren't you?" Ellie said with a smirk. She knew they were not as innocent and clean cut as their living space made them look.

"Now, now, what's that supposed to mean?" Miguel asked, his smiling eyes mocking his words. He walked over from the kitchen with a beer in hand. "We like to keep our appearances up." He said as he crossed the space in-between them.

"So you won't mind if I use your shower then?" Ellie asked, letting her voice purr again. "I've got to keep up my appearances."

"Of course not, Ellie. We'll catch up on what the h*&^ you turned up. needing freshening up after you're done." Miguel said with a smirk forming on his lips, trying to soften his inquiry.

Ellie nodded briefly and walked off to the bathroom located at the top of the stairs, two doors to the right.

"Oh, wait!" Charlie called after her as he sprinted to where she was. She turned and tilted her head impatiently. "Do you have any other clothes?"  
Ellie scoffed.

"Does it look like I'm carrying clothes with me?" Ellie said gesturing to her body.

"Ok, wrong question." Charlie said. He sighed as she looked at him. Agitation clear in her eyes. "Ok you know where the towels are, and I'll find some clothes for you."  
Ellie smirked to herself that they had women's clothes regularly on hand, and quickly went to fetch a towel, and whatever else she needed. The bathroom was nicely appointed, with a double sink, and any thing she could possibly need in the bathroom. They had a large tub, but she opted for the stand-alone shower.  
She thought the warm water would relieve her nerves and tension, but as the water hit her skin, she had to fight her flashbacks, and a feeling of dread creeping up on her. Her mind worked to channel all her fear into slow calculated rage, and strategy. As she mediated on those thoughts she knew she couldn't go after Constantine like before. No, she had to influence more than him, and that would take some more research. Charlie, and Miguel liked a challenge, and she had a feeling she'd need them whether she wanted to or not.

Ariela's eyes flitted over her computer screen, searching for anything missing in the ad before her. Her desk was a neatly arranged with various visual aids, and notes. She worked as graphic designer for an advertising firm just outside LA. Her current project was a design for a new bohemian, vegan-friendly bistro nearby. Earthy colors mixed with bright splashes of red, orange, and yellow, creating a lively but romantic mood. She still wondered though it something was missing. Jacob would know. Jacob Herber was her boss, the owner of the company. He was in his mid-fifties with graying hair. He was tall with a strong frame, and broad shoulders. Even though his presence could be intimidating, he could be pleasant and gentle. His vision was simple, provide excellent work by hiring talented artists, young and old. He was an oddity in that he enjoyed the occasional consultation with artists working for his firm. He was a bit of a perfectionist but that was needed in such a important business. She had interned for him in high-school, and began working for him full time after she returned from bible college. While she was seen as a limited artist by some in the firm, Mr. Herber admired her consistency and sensitivity.

Ariela glanced beyond her cubicle to see if he was in sight, or maybe Ronnie could help her. Ronnie was Korean boy she'd known since her senior year in high-school, when she presented a pro-abstinence program in her high-school. Not that the program presented was well received by the young Korean, who had seen his share of so called "good girls" go bad in the pursuit of love, recognition, and even cash. It was clear to her he had a chip on his shoulder when he made a comment she could remember like it was said yesterday.  
-------------------------------------------------(((((flashback)))))------------------------------  
"Believe me guys, a pretty girl like that can't keep herself locked up for much longer. Give her a few years, and she'll be a real, genuine, freak." Ron remarked to a group of his peers as they moved to exit the class early. Ron's friend's laughed heartily at the suggestion. Their laughter was cut short when they heard another voice.  
"Oh, really?" a female voice said. "I didn't know you possessed the gift of foresight."  
Ron's head snapped in the direction of the sound. It was Ariela. His mouth opened but for some reason sound didn't come out. He steeled himself then. The last thing he wanted was to be railed on because he was unable to stand up to a girl.

"How realistic do you really think it is in LA to makes claims that you can wait 'till marriage? There's been girls like you here before. They never keep the promise. Sure, they do for a while, and then you hear about the same girl at lovers lane with her boyfriend steaming up the backseat. Oh, and my favorite is the school "goody-two-shoes" coming up pregnant." He paused and scoffed. "We've heard it before. How do you expect me to buy what you're selling?"

"Sounds like you're upset." Ariela said, studying the doubt in his eyes.

"Really? Why's that?" Ron said trying to sound collected. He failed.

"Why? Because when people are upset they tend to use words like "always" and "never"," she explained. She hoped the calm tone of her voice would temper his tension. When she still received his cynical stare, she sighed and spoke again. "Look, this kind of a life is a choice. I choose every day to abstain, and every day I remind myself it's worth it. LA doesn't have anything to say about my life."  
Her response triggered mocking laughter from the group of boys, all besides Ron.

"Prove it." Ron finally said as his eyes looked her over one last time. The school bell rang, echoing through the hallways. The grating sound reminding them that a school day was still in progress.  
"Well, I've got to go. I'll see you around." Ariela said, giving the group a quick nod. She then passed them and then stopped when she walked a few paces. "And Ron." Ron turned surprised, and gestured for her to speak. "I'm going to prove you wrong."  
----------------------------------((((end flashback)))))-------------------------------------------------------------  
As if on cue Ariela's boss padded through the cubicles. She could tell by now the pattern and weight of his footsteps. Certain people had a presence that followed them around, and Jacob was one of them. Jacob wasn't a traditionally handsome man, but he was hard to ignore. His eyes were a soulful blue, and he sported a neatly trimmed goatee and had his salt-and-pepper hair was cut short. He was also was over six feet tall with broad shoulders.  
His deep voice firmly reprimanded a artist lost in a daydream. Ariela stuck her head out of her cubicle. He must of heard her move in her chair because his head turned in her direction. He padded towards her.

"Still working on the Kline account?" he asked. His voice was filled with a strange warmth. It caught Ariela slightly off guard for a moment. She didn't respond in time, and he furrowed his brow.

"Oh, well, all the elements the clients wanted are featured; bright colors, organic life, but the mixing of romantic and vibrant are challenging. I wanted to get your advice on how to combine the two without looking jumbled or like some bad club ad."

"That's a little too harsh Miss Levy." he said, leaning down a bit to see the screen. His eyes looked over everything, from her choice of colors, to the images, to the text. "Your ads never look like bad club ads." he joked.  
Ariela chuckled, in an effort to make herself more comfortable with his flattering remark. His tone then turned serious as he pointed out a problem with the colors. He must of sensed her discomfort. She shook the strange feeling off, and fixed the problem in front of him, and then saved her work. She glanced at her computer's clock. It was about four-thirty in the afternoon. Just a half-hour before her shift was over, even though graphic design work was often work she'd have to take home with her. Today was a bit different, as this ad was her last she had on her plate. That she was grateful for, as the emergence of Chas and his new friends had weighed on her mind.  
"You get off in a half hour right?" Mr. Herber asked. Ariela nodded in response. "Well, be sure to stop by my office before you leave. I think I may have a new project for you."

"Alright sir, I'll make sure to stop by." Ariela responded with a quick smile.  
She was grateful to have a boss like him, who respected her for the work she did, instead of trying to recruit her for modeling jobs in the development department. Sure, Mr. Herber was single, but he didn't intend to be so. He lost his wife of almost twenty years to aggressive cancer before she ever went to work for him, and she knew he took the loss hard. A mid-life crisis would be in order for most men of his age and social standing, but not him. He had a sense of responsibility to his company, to not become tabloid fodder by gallivanting around town with models half his age. She knew little other than he kept his private life separate from his work. Rumors sometimes made their way around the office that he was too religious, or too devastated by his wife's death to move on with another woman. He valued his Jewish roots, and observed Shabbat on a weekly basis. She heard you could often see him walking to his local temple if you passed his house on the weekend or festival days. He wasn't a walking stereotype, and he seemed sincerely devout, unlike some who were secular Jews. God's favor dwelled on him, she could see, and yet he carried himself with a air that said he knew it could all go any minute. Wealth and prestige were fleeting in this town. One minute your contemporaries were singing your praises, and the next cursing your name, or worse, not remembering it at all.  
She pulled out her cell phone briefly, and sent her friend Ron a text. Chas had been busy with the happenings of last week. it was time to celebrate, well just plain being alive, and his renewed faith. It may be a feat trying to get Ron to join in, given the chip on his shoulder gained by Chas brushing him off, a few years ago, after meeting John. Ron, Chas and herself had been so close during the drama of his parent's separation and then divorce. Many nights were spent in her apartment listening to the radio, or driving around town, just to forget the fights, and yelling that shattered the normal calm of his home. Sometimes silent tears would fall down his face, seemly unbeknownst to him. Her heart ached to think of how she knew it shattered him inside. Ron's light-hearted attitude helped lighten her tendency to want to swoop in and help him. This tendency sometimes got her in trouble with Ron.

"You can't fix this Ariela! It may be hard for you to hear, but you can't!" Ron exclaimed to her while in the middle of a confused advice giving session. "So stop trying!"  
Chas, she remembered, sat there in a beanbag chair with his face in his hand, his face changed from weary to alarmed at Ron's outburst. Ariela tried to speak but her throat tightened almost painfully. She remembered resisting the urge to snap back at Ron, but something inside wouldn't let her. He was right, she knew, but she despised feeling helpless. Chas' words left her a little more relieved.  
"That's enough, Ron." Chas said, his eyes seemly boring into Ron, warning him against any more outbursts. He then looked at her and gave her a small smile. Even though they both knew Ron was right, Chas still made sure he stood by her.

She found it was better just to listen, and give advice only if he asked for it, or if he was too depressed, or deep in self-pity for his own good. That was more difficult than anything to her. It was in her nature to help people. She had to face the fact that she couldn't repair him, or his floundering faith. Maybe that caused some strain towards the end of her senior year in high school. Maybe that's why she was so easily pulled away from him when she went away to school. Perhaps she was too weary of praying and hoping for change. But why? Why did he have to change?  
Ariela shook her head of the memories, and looked at the clock again. It was 4:59 PM, time enough for her to clean up her desk, and head over to Mr. Herber's office. She straightened out her paperwork, and filed it neatly away in her portfolio, and carefully stowed away her laptop in it's case. She picked up the rest of her things, and made her way past the cubicles, and down through the glass panel doors, and down the hallway where his office sat. The building was open in this part of the building due to the fact that bright light could damage some work in her department. Sunlight streamed in giving full view to the elegantly appointed courtyard. His secretary, Heather Joseph was seated just outside it in a decent sized desk, looking over her computer screen. She a reasonably friendly woman in her thirties with curly dark hair, hooded brown eyes, and a heavy bone structure.  
Before Ariela could speak, Heather looked up.

"Oh, Miss Levy, he's expecting you. You can go on in." Heather said with a quick smile. There was some cryptic message in her eyes, but Ariela couldn't make it out. She turned, and rapt briefly on the door before heading into Mr. Herber's office. She heard Heather snicker as she did.  
Mr. Herber looked up from his desk, and leaned back in his high back leather chair. His office was lined with his favorite ad campaigns. but his desk was lined with more personal pictures and mementos.

"Make yourself comfortable Miss Levy." he said softly. She sat, feeling now a bit ill at ease. "This isn't a serious matter, and I meant what I said." Jacob said gently, sensing her unease. Ariela nodded and let out a ragged breath, and let her muscles unravel.

"Well sir, it's not often that I get called into your office for a non-serious matter." Ariela replied.

"Very true." he said with a deep chuckle. "I just didn't want to make anyone jealous with what I'm about to ask you to help me with."

Ariela gestured for him to go on.

"Well, it seems I'm in a bit of a situation. I'm going out of town, and my house sitter flaked out on me. I can't get anyone to sit for me on such late notice." he explained. He paused to study her expression. The last thing he wanted was her to misread him and run scared. Ariela was a unique girl that tended to read into situations a bit more than she should. It grated on his nerves to offend her, and he didn't quite know why. "I was wondering if you could fill in." he finished. He watched her expression for signs of stress. Her eyes were questioning but not fearful. "I leave on Monday, and can't find anyone trustworthy to watch my place." Ariela nodded thoughtfully. She knew plenty of more affluent residents in LA hiring house-sitters to secure their home and holdings. If any mischief took place someone would be there to prevent it from getting worse, and even prevent it from happening in the first place. Activity in a house helped prevent vandals from defacing property, thieves from stealing goods, and jealous rivals from stealing sensitive documents and media.  
"Would you like me to recommend someone for you?" she asked, before mentally kicking herself. He laughed. It broke the tension in her and she smiled sheepishly.  
"Oh, Ariela." he said, breaking for a moment his habit of calling her by her last name. Laughter again sputtered out of him again, as he realized his impropriety. Ariela smiled in a way that told him to not sweat it. They had been working together since high school after all. His laughter stopped, and his tone turned serious again. "I was wondering if you'd watch my house for me. I leave Monday and return Wednesday night. You won't have to worry about falling behind on work. You'll have everything you need to complete your work in my den."  
Ariela nodded again.  
"Well, I will think about it and let you know Mr. Herber. When should I get back to you?"

"You think you can let me know by tomorrow?" he asked.

"I think so."

"Alright then. Miss Levy. You're free to go, and thanks. I'll give you more details if you decide to assist me."

"I'm honored that you'd ask, sir. Shalom." she said before gathering her things, and standing.  
She heard him chuckle.

"Shalom, Miss Levy." he answered back in the traditional Jewish manner. Shalom meant "peace" in Hebrew.

She left the office then, suddenly wondering how this would effect her relationships with her co-workers. She'd have to be as upfront with her opportunity if anyone found out just to avoid rumors. The thoughts made worry creep up, and a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck.  
As soon as it came it disappeared when she remembered how impeccable his reputation was regarding his employees, and it helped that hers was clean thus far. She knew that the more spotless her rep the more she was watched. She started to feel more watched than ever.  
She said a quick goodbye to Heather, and headed down the staircase that lead to the outside lot. She pulled her phone out of her pants pocket, and dialed Ron's number.  
"Hey Air," she heard Ron say after two rings.

"Hey, you off right now?" Ariela asked as she exited the building. She was greeting by strangely dry heat. A dry spell had hit the city, and it was uncertain when it would let up.

"Yeah. You think I would answer if I wasn't?" he joked. "Anyway, you usually just text me, what's happening?"

"Well, I don't know if you know who's back in the picture." Ariela started.

"Oh, yeah. Chas right?" Ron said. His voice echoed his hesitation at the situation. Chas coming back in the picture was far from what he expected, much less what he could prepare for. Chas blowing him off hit him hard, but he didn't want to hurt Ariela by resisting what she was bound to ask him to do. Reconcile with Chas.

"Yeah, but how'd you find that out?" Ariela asked as she leaned against the side of the building, setting her things on the ground.

"Neela told me Sunday. You have to remember that Neela doesn't keep things like that a secret."

"Yeah, she's always been a peacekeeper." Ariela said putting great emphasis on the word peacekeeper. "Look, I want to throw Chas a party this weekend. I haven't cleared it with my folks yet, but I don't think that will be difficult. Neela's mom I know would jump at the opportunity to cook the food. I was thinking you could bring the music, and maybe some drinks."  
"Drinks? Is he open to that kind of thing?" Ron asked. He knew she wasn't talking about alcohol, not in a natural sense.

"Well, he kind of had a crash course at my place, and I think he'd be into more." Ariela said with a smile. Her tone then turned serious. "I just want you, Neela, and Lila there. People he knows will enjoy him, and celebrate him coming back."

"Back to God?" Ron asked, not wanting to talk about reconciliation just yet. Not until he at least knew Chas knew what he did was wrong. He didn't only hurt him, but Ariela as well. It was strange how a few visits could erase the fact that Chas made her cry. He wondered Chas was aware of that. Something about him sometimes unraveled her.

"Yeah, and back to us." Ariela said, hitting what Ron didn't want home. Maybe Chas wasn't as bad as he thought. Time would tell.

"Yeah, so when's the party?" Ron asked.

"I'm thinking Saturday." Ariela replied. She tended to like to keep Sundays laid back as much as possible. Shabbat had to be observed sometime during her week. "I'll call you when I get an official ok." She heard Ron laugh on the other line.

"I think your parents will be ok with it, but yeah, call me when you know. I think I'm actually looking forward to it."

"Good." Ariela grinned her herself, as she took off her navy blue jacket, as the late afternoon heat was too warm for it. "I thought you'd come round." The door suddenly opened beside her, and she jumped. It was Ron. He seemed oblivious to her for a split second, then his head turned towards her.  
"Oh….snap!" he said. He then saw it was Ariela, and laughed. She had gathered her composure, with her hands on her hips. "Well, I told you I was off." Ron resorted, as he snapped his cell phone shut. No use talking on the phone when she was in front of him. Ariela snickered.

"True, true." she said, ending the call on her cell phone, cracking a smile.

"So what kind of tunes do you want for the party?" Ron asked, as they walked off towards their cars. She gave him an idea of what she was looking for, and bid him goodbye. He had a family dinner to get to, ahs she had to speak to her parents.  
Ariela knew traffic would be horrible on the freeway, so she took a scenic route, as droned from her convertible's speakers. Her route took her by the ocean, and a pang of longing stirred within her. She so wanted someone to walk along the golden sands with, to know her deeply. the sight of the waves reminded her of one Christmas Eve when Chas' parent's marriage was falling apart. They had sought refuge at Ron's family's beach house, after a nasty confrontation. She sighed, and trying to think about something else her artistic mind could bounce around. She thought of the offer from her boss. It could really boost her standings to help him in such a harmless way, so what could the harm be. Anyone who wanted to be petty or jealous could make something up, but they would soon fall flat in the wake that she knew her boss, and he was not the type to seduce an employee.  
These thoughts were still in her head as she parked, and locked her car. she made her way upstairs, and found the door to be unlocked. She knocked on the door once, turned the handle and cautiously stuck her head inside the door. She could smell a familiar smell of roasting lamb, and hear something coming from the kitchen. Giggling from her mother. Her father must be home for dinner tonight. She chuckled to herself, and covered her mouth with her hand so she wouldn't be heard. She stepped forward then, and set her laptop case by the door. The giggling stopped as the sound of her high heels were heard on the floor.  
"Oh, Air." her mom said peaking out from the kitchen alcove. Her face was slightly red from a flush. It could have been from the heat of the kitchen, or her husband Ben. She saw her mother smack at something behind her.

"Hey, Mom, and Dad." Ariela said, with a raised brow and a grin. As much as it embarrassed her to walk in on such a moment, it was encouraging to see them so close.

"Hello, my little lion." her father said, poking his head out from the alcove beside her mother.

"Hello, Abba, so what have you guys been cooking up in there?" Ariela asked, knowing the question would have a double meaning.

"Just some lamb for gyros. It should be ready soon." he answered, not giving her any ammunition.  
Ariela nodded, and moved to place her purse, and work case in her bedroom. She walked, there and slipped off her high heels. When she came back her father was chopping tomatoes, and placed them in a bowl. Ariela helped set the other fixings and remaining utensils on the table, and then they sat together.  
Her father then blessed the meal in a traditional Jewish fashion.  
"Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu Melekh ha-olam, she-hakol nih'ye bidvaro." ("Blessed are You, LORD, our God, King of the universe, through Whose word everything comes into being.")

"Amen." they then said in unison. Her father didn't bless the meal like such every night. He must have been feeling like tradition was called for tonight.  
"So how was your day my little lion?" her father asked while picking up a section of meat and assembling it in his flatbread.

"Good. I finished my project on time, and I might have a new one." Ariela said. She scooped some onions onto her meat, before adding tomatoes and cucumber sauce. It wasn't a kosher meal, but it was one of her favorites.

"Might?" her mother asked. Curiosity shone in her blue eyes. Ariela had just taken a bite then, and she waited patiently while she finished.

"Well, this project is more like an opportunity to help out my boss in a jam."

"What is it?"

"Well, Mr. Heber is going out of town next week, and he for some reason needs someone to watch his place, and the person who was going to help him flaked out. He asked me because I guess he trusts me to be responsible and not steal anything. Anyway, he wants to know tomorrow whether I can help him."

"What are you planning on telling him?" her mother asked. Ariela knew her mother's questions were out of curiosity, but her father's hesitance was written on his face as he listened.

"I wanted to run it by you, and at least tell you that I really see no reason to not help." Ariela explained. "I would have any materials I needed to complete any of my work, again he would be out of town…" she looked over at her father whose brow looked slightly worried. "…so dad wouldn't have to worry about any questionable conduct."  
Her father raised his brow, and smiled slightly.

"Ariela, I trust you, just not him." he explained. He used her full name, and Ariela knew he was concerned for her. She sighed slightly, and set down her food. She could tell this would be a battle.

"Oh come on dad, he's more than twice my age, and isn't the type to come on to employees. Besides, we've known him for years, and he's never given us reason to doubt his professionalism." she explained with slightly more edge in her voice.

"He's a man Ariela, and you are a beautiful, young woman who will be frequenting his home." he explained, before being interrupted.

"Yes, while he isn't home."

"Ariela, stop." her mother, Sharon, warned with her words and her eyes. "At least let your father explain a bit." Ariela nodded, and pulled at a pin in her hair.

"The Scriptures tell us to run from any appearance of evil. You, a young, attractive woman in his house could cause rumors to spread, whether he is there or not." he insisted. "It may look like you've moved in with him." He then stopped knowing how flimsy his concern would seem to Ariela. He had to let her speak or risk furthering the furrow in her brow, and arousing anger in her. He gestured that it was alright to speak, and took another bite of his food.

"It may just look like a younger relative was crashing at his place for a few days, or maybe that I was actually just house-sitting. Since when do you encourage me to care about people think? You sure didn't care what people thought when you encouraged me to not hang with the doctors' rich kids, and live like I wasn't wealthy, or when I choose to not date in high school, or when I chose to have Chas over here overnight. Now, when I have seemingly nothing to lose by helping out my older boss, who won't even be there, you suddenly care what people might say." she responded, forcing herself then to stab a piece of meat that had fallen out of her pita, and eat it. There was no use being dramatic and not eating, and thus causing another battle, if she could avoid it. Her father had drilled into her head to not be concerned about the opinions of others, and she believed him. He seemed to be flip-flopping.  
Her father studied her for a moment. She was clearly upset, as the last few words of her reasoning had cracked as if under the weight of fear. Fear that see wouldn't have his blessing. His eyes warmed, and he reached for his daughter's hand. She looked up at him with her blue eyes looking slightly greyer than usual, and her jaw tense. She forced a small smile at his gentle touch on her hand.

"If you feel this is right, we can agree to disagree. You know my concerns, but I know you know what to do if something goes…" he paused, studying her for a moment. "…awry." he finished. He wasn't sure if he truly believed his words, for a strange pang in his heart still nagged at him. If it was such a safe arrangement why did he feel so hesitant? Perhaps the danger was not in her boss, but something else. He had been feeling a growing spiritual tension around his workplace, and the city they lived in. It seemed to be supercharged, and volatile. He was no stranger to the stories of dark strangers in Ravenscar the night Ariela healed Chas. John and Angela's story alone had left his head spinning and him pacing the floor at night, praying for protection over his daughter. That plus the sometimes manic pace at the hospital was making him weary. As the days passed he became more aware of how perverse people could be, and how crafty. A exciting open door could turn into someone's worst nightmare if they weren't always watchful. His daughter said she knew that, but he wondered if she fully understood it.  
"I do, and I think you'll just have to be ok with that." Ariela said simply. It was jarring to not feel her father's blessing, and it made her feel uneasy. It was time to change the subject and quick. She turned her head to her mother. "So, I'm planning a party for Chas on Saturday. I'm thinking of holding it here, because renting a room would be out of the question on such late notice."

"Yes, you can hold it here." her mother said, answering her implied question. The move made Ariela laugh out loud.

"Alright, dad, I think Mom has my side on this one." Ariela said. Her father couldn't argue, and they proceeded to be briefed on more of Ariela's ideas on the subject.

After dinner Ariela and her mother placed dishes in the dishwasher, and packaged leftovers for their lunches for the next day. Her father was washing up the counters and table. Her parent's seemed to be lost in thought, pondering many things. When she was done helping she excused herself.  
Ariela felt like unwinding, and she often did that by expressing herself in some medium or another, whether it be graphite, ink or paint. She made her way to her bedroom, and knelt beside her bed. She lowered her head to the ground and peered under her bed, as she kept her art supplies in a drawer compartment built into her bed. She pulled it open, and selected all she needed. From here she went to her closet, and selected canvas already stretched over a board, and a easel to set it upon. She set all she needed up by her window, and adjusted the lighting in her room. The last thing she'd need was music. It helped set and keep whatever mood she wished her art to express. She choose something deep and spiritual and hit play. Art, music, and prayer were a potent mix, as her mother always told her.  
She picked up her pallet and began places colors on it. She murmured a prayer, and was drawn to a warm color palette. Moving almost out of a strange divine connection she dipped her brush in a golden hue, and ran her brush across the canvas.

John had spent the last couple days pondering the symbolism behind his dream, the lion, the destruction, the golden field. Part of him was afraid to investigate farther, as he feared it would point to the death of Chas. He lost Chas once, and it didn't want it to happen again. He was too young, with so much to live for, besides his destructive pursuits. Guilt crept into his consciousness of what he had let the boy expose himself to. He was looking for experience, something bigger than himself to be apart of. He wondered what would of happened if after he saved his life, if he just went back home, and went on with his life. Then again, he could of just found trouble from a different source then. He hadn't forced him to read demonology books, and research the occult. He was mostly taking advantage of the cab boy's generosity to take him around town. Not that he never complained, but that was from more lack of involvement, or appreciation than unwillingness. Chas had dropped by yesterday while he was out and had left a letter on his kitchen table. John reached for the letter again, now placed on his bedside table. It was a crumpled piece of notebook paper written in a hurried script, as if he was trying to complete all his main thoughts in a hurry.  
It read:  
"Hey Boss,  
I wanted to tell you in person, but you weren't here, so here's a letter.  
I think you should know that I explained to my mom why I was so fascinated by all the things you're into, and I'm left in a bit of a hard place. Thing is, I don't want to leave you without a ride, or a friend who'll watch out for you (when you get too headstrong for your own good,) but I can't do the things I used to. If I do, I wouldn't be honoring the fact that for some reason, the Big Guy gave me a second chance. He gave us both second, (for you, even third chances). I'm around if you need me, but I need to do some soul-searching. I need to have other friends, catch up with my mom, and such. I know you're probably rolling your eyes right now, thinking I'm talking about Ariela. Well, I am, but I did have other friends other than her, before you. They were her friends too, but whatever. Birds of a feather, I guess. Sorry, I'm rambling.  
Take care of yourself (and Angela ;) , and please keep in touch.  
-Chas"  
It wasn't quite a "I just wanted to say goodbye, without actually saying it" letter, but more a "see you when I reevaluate my life". He really couldn't blame him for needing a breather, and being in the company of a beautiful, slender blonde would be a pleasant change from running him around town, in a hotter than hell borrowed car. He hoped the girl would be a good thing for him. Her family seemed wholesome and concerned about Chas, if more cautious about him. He frankly didn't blame them. As spiritually in-tune as Ariela seemed, her parent's must have been quite perceptive to keep such a wise, yet pure spirit inside their daughter. He wondered what other layers laid behind her warm, confident, self-sacrificing nature. The young woman hardly knew him or Angela yet she treated them like they were honored people in her life. From her involvement in helping Angela find a priest for Isabel's funeral, and her involvement in the burial itself, she handled herself with care and decorum. While she could tell she was cautious and maybe even a bit annoyed by him, she still respected the bond he and Chas shared. Never mind she risked failure in raising Chas from the dead. He cringed when he thought of what would of happened to the girl if she failed. Often times girls like her became so absorbed in taking take of everyone else, that they didn't take care of themselves. They often suffered a loss or grief, and suddenly was left with no leftover reserve to get their own selves through.  
He shook his head, feeling unsure why he suddenly cared so much. A few weeks ago he wouldn't of cared. Things had changed in the past few days. The familiar tickle in his throat and the constant taste of iron had left completely, along with the horrendous cough. His breathing had eased, but something in him warned that if he pushed his luck, the symptoms and the cancer would all come flooding back. Not because God was playing tricks, but because he was reaping the crappy seed he'd sown. The Hebrew scriptures stated that God's love and mercy endured forever. He desperately wanted it to be true. He wiped his brow and decided he needed to hear a friendly voice before she left for who knows where. He stood and strode towards his front door again. He had to use the pay phone on down the street, and call Angela. He made short work of the stairs and rushed through bowling alley to the outside door. Hot air, drier than he had ever remembered greeted him. It was enough that he undid his tie as he strode across the street to the pay phone next to the liquor store.  
He deposited his silver colored coins, and dialed the number, anxious to hear her voice, something. After three excruciatingly long rings a voice came onto the line.  
"Dodson." it said. Something in John jumped, a strange foreign feeling. A rush of blood and his nerves felt alive.  
"Angie." he breathed.

"Oh hi John, is everything alright?" Concern was evident in her voice.

"Uh, yeah." John said, struggling suddenly to believe his own words.

"Why don't I believe you?" Angela asked.

"Well, I'm not sure I believe it myself just yet." John said after a few moments of thought.

"Hard time adjusting?" Angela said with a chuckle.

"Maybe." he said vaguely, still not wanting to give the impression that he had a hard time with anything, much less Chas distancing himself. There was silence on the other end for a moment.

"Tell you what, how about I pick you up, then you can tell me what's going on? We have to get through this somehow."  
Angela didn't hear his voice for several seconds. She said his name.

"I'm thinking." he said. He heard Angela chuckle.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes, be ready." Angela said. He then heard the dial tone. He chuckled. Now he didn't have a choice, not that he minded much. He looked around him then, standing on the sidewalk in the late evening, with various people passing him by. He wondered if they knew that kind of seeds they were sowing into their lives. It wasn't just a tired saying. You did really reap what you sowed.

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I know that was a long chapter! Whew! I had a lot to write about, trying to include what happened to Ellie, and add some tension to the storyline. Hopefully it was enough to have you all want more. Please review!


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